


Lover's Touch

by Rizandace



Series: Magic Curses [1]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Qualice - but just to start, and just getting right to my overly indulgent story, brief fargo, but not a fix-it, i'm ignoring dumb things from the finale, post s-4, queliot, sick quentin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-10 02:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18651028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rizandace/pseuds/Rizandace
Summary: "The Curse of the Lover's Touch," Kady said, slapping down a piece of paper on the bedside table next to Q. Her lip actually curled as she said it, as she seemingly realized how nauseating the name was."It's actually pretty simple. Hedges usually only bother with it when they think someone is unloved and alone, because it's a double-whammy, see? You start dying, slowly and painfully, and you also get the knowledge that if you weren't such a dickhead and you had true love in your life, you'd be totally fine."Q gets cursed, and Alice can't help. Magic forces Q and Eliot to cuddle and talk about their feelings.





	1. Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is post S-4, but it's not a fix-it, because I'm basically just... ignoring the finale. The basics remain the same, in that Margo stabbed Eliot with the axes, they defeated Everett, etc. But Q doesn't die in the attempt, and Eliot and Margo don't get trapped in the future of Fillory. Julia doesn't get her magic back. This takes place a good six months after the events of Season Four.
> 
> It does start off with some little bits of Qualice, and this fic is not anti-Alice in any way, but Queliot is the name of the game, here. I promise.
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be a one-shot, but it got a lot longer than I was planning, so... part two will be coming along shortly. Maybe a part three, depending on how long Q and Eliot take to talk about their feelings. They can be very stubborn sometimes.

  **QUENTIN**

This never would have happened if he hadn't been such a fucking motor mouth. Q was more than willing to admit his own flaws, especially when his flaws led to a really nasty, really old hedge witch hitting him with some sort of organ-failure curse. He felt his insides squirm again and lunged for the bucket by the bed, spitting up thin, watery blood. Everything fucking hurt, and he tried very hard not to whimper pathetically. Alice's hand, hot and steady on his back, rubbed in comforting little circles.

It wasn't  _all_  Q's fault, though. Something was going wrong with the Library, like it always seemed to be, and they'd needed answers. Sure, Kady was usually the one who did the information extraction thing, but they'd been on a time crunch, and things had happened so fast. Q hadn't been trying to insult the old hag, exactly... but since when did he get the benefit of the doubt from anyone?

"Kady says she's got a lead," Julia said, walking into the room with a brisk, no-nonsense sort of look on her face. "We're going to figure out what this thing is, and then we'll get you all fixed up, Q, I promise." Quentin knew her well enough to sense the frustration in every line of her body. He could practically hear her thinking that if she still had her God-powers, she'd be able to fix this without issue.

Until now, Julia had adjusted remarkably well to her human status. She and Penny-23 had slowly started to build trust after his well-meaning but still troubling betrayal, and the Library's magic supply was still sort of all over the place, so it wasn't like everyone was just using magic at all hours of the day anyway. She had told Q just the other day that most of the time she didn't even feel different from the rest of the group. Q thought that had probably been a lie, but he'd let her keep up the pretense.

"Do you think we should contact the others?" Alice asked. She meant the Fillorian crowd - Eliot, Margo, Josh, even Fen, who had somehow become a part of their family just as much as any of the others over the last several months.

"They've got that big delegation thing coming up," Q said, remembering the last time he'd gotten a chance to visit Whitespire. "They're swamped, and anyway, there's not a lot any of them could do."

He  _wanted_  his friends around him, though, and almost wished he hadn't said anything. Margo was always good for a distraction, and Fen was so sweet and chipper. Josh could bake him food and El... well, Quentin had to admit that being around Eliot just made everything feel better, no matter what. Still, he couldn't ask them to drop their important negotiations just to comfort him for his own stupidity. He trusted the team he had around him - Julia and Alice would never let anything happen to him, and Jules had Penny-23 and Kady both wrapped around her finger enough to depend on their help as well.

Abruptly, he felt his body start to shiver, felt a sharp pain in his chest, and tried to gasp unobtrusively. Alice was already terrified, there was no need to make it obvious exactly how much pain he was in.

"Let's see what Kady found out," Julia suggested, sitting down on the edge of the bed and rubbing a comforting hand down Q's arm. "We'll get a message to Margo and the others if we need backup. But you're going to be  _fine_ , Q," she repeated, just as Quentin stiffened under her arm and shuddered, a wracking cough working its way through his chest.  _Ow, ow, ow_ , he thought, and this time he couldn't stop the small moan of pain. Alice's fingers pressed hard into his back, like she was trying to hold him there through sheer force of will.

"Oh, Q," Julia said. "I'm so sorry."

"You'll be okay," Alice said, her voice soft and a little wavering. "Just hold on a little longer."

* * *

_Months Earlier_

For a full six weeks after the monsters had been defeated, they had all lived together in Kady's fancy apartment. There weren't, strictly speaking, enough bedrooms for everyone, but Margo wouldn't leave Eliot anyway, and Alice and Quentin were sharing a bed, and Kady was usually off with the hedges for long stretches of time, so they made it work. Quentin had known, even as it was happening, that the arrangement wouldn't last, but he had relished in it all the same.

It felt a little bit like Brakebills, the way the Physical Kids cottage had been this crowded, overwhelming yet comforting home to him, a place where he was surrounded always by actual, bona-fide affection from all angles. The tentative, slightly awkward yet pure new love of Alice Quinn, the steadfast friendship of Eliot Waugh, the harsh, unyielding,  _entertaining_  needling of Margo Hanson, even the brusque, yet somehow indulgent loyalty of Kady, when she wasn't caught up with her own drama. Now they were all together again in one place, along with Penny-23 and Julia, too, living in each other's spaces, breathing life into each other's worlds.

It was only after Eliot and Julia were back in control of their own bodies, the monsters gone, and Everett defeated, that Quentin realized exactly how fucked up he'd been over the last several months. The relief was so powerful that it had left him shaking and weak for days, hardly able to get out of his own bed. After that, being around the people he loved most in the world was a healing balm, and he hadn't been looking forward to all of them splintering apart again, getting caught up in the tide of their chaotic lives.

The new tenuous connection with Alice had been growing stronger and stronger every day. Being with Alice Quinn wasn't the way Quentin remembered it - wasn't the way he would have pictured it - but honestly he thought that was a good thing. For the first time since they'd met, they were both trying to know each other as they really were, instead of imagining what they wished they could be. It was less  _intense_  than it had been at the start, but that's what happened when you knew someone for a long time, when the passion and fervor of early love transformed into something trusting and comforting, something he could believe in.

And then there was Eliot. Q felt a little guilty for how much time he'd spent with Eliot in those first weeks, when things with him and Alice were still settling. But he'd  _missed_ Eliot.  He'd missed him so damn much, with his casual arrogance and his kind attention, his regal aura and charming vulnerability. His friendship with Eliot wasn't something he'd let himself think about much when the monster had been around - it had just been too hard to contemplate what he was missing. But now, just like all the rest of his trauma and heartbreak, he was finally allowing himself to  _feel_ it.

Eliot, since the day he'd woken up in the hospital to the sight of Margo and Quentin both 'weeping and carrying on over his attractively dying body', as he put it, had been itching to get back to Fillory. He missed it, he missed Fen, and he wanted to help his Bambi regain the throne if at all possible. Of all the changes Q knew were coming, it was Eliot and Margo's inevitable departure that was the hardest to handle.

The thing was, things between him and Eliot were really good. Maybe better than they'd ever been. Although, they'd had to get through a somewhat uncomfortable conversation in order to get to where they were now.

Eliot had only been awake for three days when Margo had gone to fetch Q. "He says he has to have a talk with you," Margo said, raising her eyebrows in question. "But he won't spill the beans on what it's about. Any ideas?"

Q shook his head, a little awkwardly, thinking about  _peaches and plums, motherfucker... proof of concept_... and Alice, who was curled up next to him on the couch reading a book and enjoying a mug of tea. "No idea." He pressed a brief kiss into Alice's forehead as he stood. She barely looked up from her book, giving him a distracted smile, as he headed towards Eliot and Margo's temporary bedroom.

"Hey," Eliot said as Quentin walked into the room. He was propped up in bed, still mostly confined to rest while his abdominal wound slowly healed.

"How are you feeling?" Q asked, coming to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. Eliot reached out and squeezed Quentin's hand once in greeting, giving a smile and a shrug.

"Better every day. I feel much more like  _myself_  now that I've dealt with the wardrobe and hairstyle issues." He shuddered dramatically and Quentin laughed. It  _was_  nice to see Eliot with his hair cut and styled, his clothing, even in repose, tailored and expensive.

"Margo said you wanted to talk?"

Eliot's look instantly shifted to something a lot more serious, and he tapped a nervous finger against Q's hand where it rested on the bed next to him. "Yeah. So. First of all, Margo kinda filled me in on Alice's whole... apology tour situation, and while I'm obviously still playing catch-up a little bit here, it seems like you two are working it out, and... um. I'm happy for you. Both."

"Oh. Okay." That hadn't been what Quentin was expecting.

"And secondly, I need to apologize to you for something."

"Oh?" He felt his heart rate spike.

"This is the part of the conversation where I get really emotionally vulnerable so I'm gonna need you to just sit there and hold on for the ride, okay?"

Quentin swallowed, feeling heat creep up the side of his neck. He heard it in his head again -  _fifty years - who gets proof of concept like that?_  and tried not to let his imagination run wild. "Okay."

"When that thing was parading around in my body with his truly tragic graphic t-shirt collection, I was... stuck. In my head."

"Yeah, your happy place. You mentioned that."

"Right. So... when I... when I broke out to get a message to you... the only way I was able to do that was to address my trauma, my repressed memories, and... obviously that brought up a lot of uncomfortable, difficult crap for me. And I was stuck in my brain for a long time so I had kind of forever to think about it all. I guess I've got an apology tour of my own to go on. And you're the first stop. The most important one."

Q seriously wasn't sure if he was breathing.

"That day, when we remembered... you asked me to be with you, and I..." Eliot stopped, swallowed audibly, and continued. "I pushed it aside like it was nothing. I think we were both going through a lot of intense shit in that moment, and I'm not saying it would have been a swell idea to just... go back to how it was in Fillory, just try and force ourselves to re-live a life that never happened. I honestly think we probably would have made a real fucking mess of it, Q. But I shouldn't have acted like it was no big deal. I - we could have  _talked_  about it. I was cruel to you, and I  _knew_  I was being cruel. And that's not fucking okay. I'm really, really sorry."

It was strange, how familiar this feeling was - relief mixed with disappointment. It's how Q had felt when he'd realized Eliot was High King of Fillory, instead of him. It's how he'd felt when he'd brought Alice's shade back and discovered that Alice was safe, and no longer the woman he knew. It's how he felt now, realizing that Eliot was apologizing for being a bit of a dick, but wasn't actually confessing his deep and abiding love. Did Q want him to be doing that? No. Maybe. Definitely... not. He was pretty sure.

"Um. Q? Can you please respond, because that was like - really hard for me to say."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry - I - El,  _thank_ you." Quentin said, suddenly finding the words. "I forgave you for that a long time ago, honestly, but it's still really nice to hear."

"Good," Eliot said. "Maybe we can... maybe sometimes we could talk about it." He looked a bit miserable all of a sudden, and Quentin shifted closer to him by instinct, taking one of his hands. "I used to think about them all the time, but now it's like they're fading..."

Quentin nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. "Yeah, I... me too, and I don't want to forget him."

"Our son," Eliot whispered, like the word was forbidden. Quentin leaned forward and pulled Eliot into a hug, gripping tight while trying to avoid bending him in a way that would tug on his injured stomach. They sat that way for a long time, breathing each other in. Quentin hadn't know he was carrying tension and grief over this very thing for months, but now he felt that same tension drain out of himself and Eliot alike.

He'd gotten Eliot back, in every way he could. In every way that really mattered. He had to be the luckiest person alive.

A few weeks later, Eliot and Margo had left for Fillory. They still saw each other often, and true to Eliot's request, they  _did_  talk about it sometimes - it became a shy, private thing between them, recalling an inside joke they'd had with Arielle, remembering some of Teddy's teenage antics. Quentin got to have both - a new, strong and steady relationship with Alice Quinn, the girl of his dreams... and the memories of a life well lived with Eliot Waugh.

* * *

**JULIA**

"The Curse of the Lover's Touch," Kady said, slapping down a piece of paper on the bedside table next to Q. Her lip actually curled as she said it, as she seemingly realized how nauseating the name was.

"It's actually pretty simple. Hedges usually only bother with it when they think someone is unloved and alone, because it's a double-whammy, see? You start dying, slowly and painfully, and you also get the knowledge that if you weren't such a dickhead and you had true love in your life, you'd be totally fine."

"So... what... I mean, is this like a sex magic thing?" Alice asked dubiously. Julia bit back a bit of a pained laugh as she followed Alice's gaze to Q, who was pale, almost green, and shaking like a leaf.

"Fucking better not be," Q moaned from the bed. "I love you Alice, but let's just say I don't think I'm up for the honor at the moment."

Alice pressed a hand against Q's forehead, hard, then glanced up at Julia and shook her head minutely. Still burning up. Shit.

"No, not sex magic," Kady said, raising an eyebrow at Q and Alice, sitting up together in the bed. "Actually a lot simpler than that. She picked up the piece of paper again and read aloud - " _The curse will be broken by 24 hours uninterrupted contact with the cursed person's dearest love."_

Alice, who's hand was still on Q's forehead, froze for a moment. "Oh," she said, sounding a little startled.

Q looked a little nauseated too, but Julia was fairly certain that was the curse, not the information.

"Okay," he said, putting on a brave face, "Alice, get yourself comfortable."

Julia and Kady both helped, arranging Q, who was weak and shaking, alongside Alice. With a remarkable lack of self-consciousness, Alice suggested they both take their shirts off so they could lie more comfortably skin-to-skin.

Q sighed, settling in to the pillows and tilting his head to look at his girlfriend, a fond smile on his face. "I think it's helping," he said, voice a little weak, but not agonized. "Earlier, I noticed it too - when you would put your hand on my forehead or hold my hand, it hurt a little less."

"Jules, can I have a word?" Kady said quietly, as Q and Alice wiggled around a bit more on the bed to find the most comfortable position.

"Sure, yeah," Julia said, frowning down at Q. He really was remarkably pale, and he already had dark purple circles under his eyes. It had been hardly four hours since the hedge witch had cursed him, and it looked like a vampire had drained him to the point of bloodlessness.

Out in the kitchen Kady pushed her hair back out of her face the way she did when she was anxious. "That hedge witch means business," she said bluntly. "From what I can tell, there's no cheating this thing. Fillorian magic isn't going to do anything. Cooperative spell-work, nada. We need to be really sure that Alice..." she trailed off, uncharacteristically circumspect, but Julia knew what she meant.

"Yeah, I get it," she said. "But it's gotta be her, right? I mean, did you have anyone else in mind?"

"What about you?" Kady suggested. Julia jerked back a bit, looking over her shoulder to make sure they were alone.

" _Me_?"

"These types of curses, I feel like there's always some catch, some twist with them. It says 'dearest love,' but that doesn't always mean romantic."

"But it's called  _Lover's Touch_ ," Julia protested. "I love Q, he's my best friend in the world, but we've never been... you know."

"Lovers?" Kady said, her mouth forming into an automatic sneer at the word. "Still, Quentin looks really, really bad already. I'm just saying that if we wait twenty-four hours to see if Alice is curing him, he'll probably be too far gone to last another twenty-four."

Julia felt her heart squeeze uncomfortably in her chest. "So... your suggestion?"

"Why not both of you? Go in there, pull up a comfy chair and hold the guy's hand for a full day. We'll push a TV in there for the three of you or whatever. You can have 23 play gopher and fetch food."

"I just don't want Alice to think we don't trust her," Julia said, frowning.

"Alice's feelings aren't as important as Quentin's life," Kady said. Julia was surprised by the vehemence in her friend's voice. It made something warm stir in her chest - she'd never thought that Kady and Q were all that close, but that was Q for you: he touched everyone in his life, made everyone fall for him in some way or other. He might not have been the most powerful magician or the cleverest strategist, but he was the heart of them all.

To Alice's credit, she didn't protest or even question the idea when Julia went in to tell them what Kady had said. Q looked a little surprised, and then quietly pleased, at the suggestion, and before long, the three of them were all propped up in the bed together, side by side. Julia kept her shirt on, quietly ignoring the not totally unpleasant sight of Alice in a midnight blue bra, snuggled up on Q's other side. Q, though shirtless, wasn't exactly stirring any lustful feelings for either of the women, on account of looking like death warmed over. Julia twined her fingers with Quentin's and held on tight.

"Well?" she asked, after Kady had started a timer on her phone. "Feel any different?"

"I feel like shit," Q admitted. "But I think... yeah, I think having you both here is making it a little less painful."

Julia smiled at him, and Alice rested her head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss there.

"It's going to be a long twenty-four hours," Alice said.

They sat in silence for a while, all three of them trying to ignore the crackling, uneven sound of Q's breathing.

"Let's play truth or dare," Q finally suggested. "Something to pass the time."

"You're a  _dork_ ," Julia said, but they finally settled on a game of twenty questions. Alice went first, and Q got through only seven questions before his eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed into what Julia really hoped was a healing sleep.

* * *

**QUENTIN**

He slept in fits and starts, time becoming disjointed. Every time he opened his eyes, they were there beside him, his two favorite women in the world. It was hard to tell if they were really helping to heal him. Objectively, as everyone who saw him kept pointing out, he appeared to be getting worse instead of better, but that didn't necessarily mean that the cure wasn't working. For all they knew, he'd keep slowly wasting away until the twenty-four hours were up, and then begin to make a miraculous recovery. Curses were weird, and ambiguous, and nobody really knew how they worked.

Kady and Penny-23 ran errands, fetching food, and helping the ungainly trio take bathroom breaks whenever Q was feeling strong enough for it. At the ten hour mark, Q coughed up more blood, and his temperature spiked to 104 degrees. He slept fitfully for another three hours, then shook through another two, with Alice and Julia both pressed against him, rigid with fear and trying to hold him still through the trembling.

"He's... this is really bad." Q heard Kady's voice, quiet, from what felt like a very long distance. "We should probably start thinking about what we're going to do if the twenty-four hours are up, and..."

"He'll be fine!" that was Alice's voice, hissed out in anguish. Q vaguely felt the press of a hand, gripped tight around his arm, and knew that Alice was trying to squirm closer to him. "This has to work. It  _has_  to. Unless you got the curse wrong - "

"I didn't!"

"Keep your voices down, I think you're waking him up." That was Julia. Quentin, in a muddled moment, wanted to reassure her that he was okay, that they could argue over him if they wanted to, but he thought he probably only managed a kind of subterranean grumble. He felt like his throat had been scraped raw with gravel.

"Q?" Alice's voice again. "Q, can you hear me?"

"Ungh."

"Okay. Just... just try and sleep, okay?"

_Don't cry. It's okay. I know we love each other, even if this doesn't work_. Q wanted to say that. He wanted to say that and a lot of other things, in case this really was the end, and he really was going to die, slow and painful and achy on this bed. But his throat felt like it was filled with cement, and he had to think way too hard about how to breathe.

He had a fleeting thought, a scary one, just before the tide of pain pulled him under again - he'd never see Eliot again. He was dying, he could feel it, and... and he had to say goodbye. It was only fair; he had people he loved around him, but Eliot was missing, and this was  _wrong_.

He had to tell them. He had to ask them to go get Eliot, bring Eliot to him, because then it would be better... everything would be okay... he tried to speak again, but he couldn't get his throat to work right. He heard Julia shushing him gently, brushing a soft hand through his hair. Even the feather-light pressure of her fingers was starting to hurt, and the line of heat along his left side, Alice, had ceased to be a comfort.

* * *

Hours later, Q became aware of his surroundings again because something had changed. On his left, Alice was still curled up, a hot and solid weight against his arm, but on his right... Julia wasn't there anymore. He heard a sound, pained gasping, and with a greater effort than he would have imagined possible, he lifted his eyelids.

Julia was sitting curled up on the edge of the bed, sobbing, full-body convulsions rocking her thin frame. Penny-23 had his arms around her, his chin resting on the top of her head as she cried. Q wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but he couldn't move his arms. And then he realized - Julia wasn't touching him.

He gasped, but the breath caught in his throat and he started to cough and - oh god oh god he was going to die, the pain was blinding - he could hear screams, Alice, Julia maybe, and hands were on him, trying to hold him through the retching, agonizing spasms... when it finally stopped he felt too tired to exist, and only sheer force of will forced him to remain conscious. "Time?" he said.

Julia and Alice were both leaning over him, eyes bright with tears. Q blinked, trying to keep them both in focus, trying to memorize their faces. "Twenty-four hours, thirty-seven minutes," Penny-23 said, when neither of the women spoke. "I'm really sorry, man."

Nobody asked Q if he felt any different, if he thought maybe the curse was broken and he was getting better now. Nobody had to. The answer was obvious. "Oh," Q said, feeling a numbness start to spread through his body.  _I'm dying_ , he thought.  _I'm going to die, and it's going to happen very soon. Maybe it'll stop hurting, then_. And then he stopped thinking altogether, and he let his eyelids slide shut.

* * *

**ELIOT**

"If one more fucking dryad drags mud into my council room, I'm gonna cut a bitch and use the sap to make myself some maple syrup," Margo said, stamping across the marble floor in high dudgeon. "Do you know Josh tried to make Fillorian pancakes a couple of weeks ago? They were  _terrible_."

"Bambi's very feisty this morning," Eliot confided quietly to Fen, who nodded in that solemn way of hers.

"Grumpy," Fen added. "More-so than feisty, I would say. I guess the dick really must be that good."

Eliot snorted, slapping a hand across his mouth to stop from laughing outright as Margo whirled around to face the two of them, marching towards the table where Eliot and Fen were both still sitting after their latest meeting.

"What?" she demanded.

"We were just saying you must miss Josh an awful lot," Fen said. She had this way about her that Eliot honestly adored - she could sound so sincere that questioning her would be like questioning a Disney princess - one of the earlier ones, sans the Girl Power '80's add-ons. And yet if you knew her, you just  _knew_  she was laughing at you underneath those sweet little batting eyelashes.

Margo pulled herself up to her full height, which wasn't a lot, and marched closer to Fen, bending down so their faces were only inches apart. "Why, Fen, are you offering to help a lady out in her time of need?" she asked, sickly sweet.

Eliot  _did_  laugh this time, a full, high giggle, as Fen turned crimson and stood up from the table, taking a few steps backwards away from Margo. One of these days, his wife and his Bambi were going to act on this weird game of antagonistic flirting, and he just hoped Josh would be back from his trip in time to appreciate the results. That is, if Josh were in to that kind of thing. Eliot watched the two women, their eyes locked on each other, gazes flinty and intense, and sighed. Hell,  _he_  was into it, so he had to imagine the straight guy would be on board. He seriously needed to get laid.

Just as the tension between the two women had reached apocalyptic levels, there was a small  _woosh_  and Penny-23 appeared in the middle of the room.

Eliot was instantly alert - Penny wasn't exactly a fan of Traveling everyone around like he was a personal courier service. They had other ways of traveling between Fillory and Earth now, but they took a little longer: Penny tended to only show up if there was an emergency.

"Hey," Penny said, sounding awkward and tense. "Margo, Eliot."

"What's wrong?" Margo asked immediately, coming to stand beside Eliot. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

"Uh." Penny frowned, his face twisting up like he wasn't quite sure what to say. "Listen, we ran into some trouble with some hedges, and... ah hell, I'm just going to say it - Quentin's in bad shape."

_Fuck_.  _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. Eliot tried to keep himself calm as he stood up and walked quickly over to Penny. "What happened? Where is he now?"

"At the apartment. Julia and Alice have been doing everything they can, but... listen, I'm sorry. I'm not good at giving bad news - they told me to come get you, figured you'd want to be there."

Margo and Eliot exchanged a look. Eliot could feel his heart pounding in his throat. Penny didn't sound too frantic, but that didn't necessarily mean it wasn't bad...

"I'm going," Eliot said quickly, and Margo nodded.

"Yes, yeah, of course you are. I'm going too." She frowned, turning over her shoulder to look at Fen. "Fen, sweetie, hopefully we'll be back soon, but just in case... are you okay handling things for a while on your own?"

Fen looked a little scared, but she nodded. "Yes, of course! Go help your friend. Josh will be back in a few days anyway. I'm sure I can hold down the fort for that long."

Margo darted to Fen's side and gave her a sincere kiss on the cheek, and Eliot, forcing himself to take deep breaths, turned towards his wife as well. "You're going to do great," he told her, leaning to kiss her once, softly, on the mouth. "We'll be back just as soon as we've made sure Q's alright."

Eliot heard Penny shift uncomfortably from behind him, and squeezed his eyes shut. Penny grabbed one of his shoulders, put his other hand on Margo's arm, and Traveled.

When the darkness faded and their new location took shape around them, Eliot found himself in Q and Alice's bedroom in the apartment. Eliot had time to take in the sight of Julia, standing against one of the walls with a despondent look on her face, and then his gaze slid to the bed, and he felt his heart drop through his stomach.

" _Shit_ ," Margo hissed from next to him, as Penny let go of both of their arms.

"Thanks for coming," Julia said, her voice entirely devoid of emotion. Eliot tried very hard not to collapse. Or scream. Or throw up.

'Bad shape' had been Penny's words, but Eliot had expected some sort of tricky wound, one that would leave poor little Q bedridden for days while magic worked to stitch up his body. He'd prepared for the sight of blood and gore, or even Q screaming in pain. But this... Quentin was unconscious, but his face was still somehow projecting great agony. His skin had gone grey, his lips blue with faint flecks of red on the inside of his mouth. Eliot had just seen him, only a week ago, and he looked like he'd dropped a full twenty pounds since then. His hair was matted and sweaty, sticking to his forehead.

It hurt to look at him.

It hurt to breathe.

"What. The.  _Fuck_. Happened here?" Margo asked. For a long moment, nobody seemed able to answer.

* * *

**JULIA**

It probably looked odd, Julia thought abstractedly. Quentin was shirtless and was only wearing boxers under the covers, and Alice was in a pair of pajama shorts and a bra, laying curled up alongside him, her body pressed skin-to-skin with his. Nobody had had the heart to suggest that she move; if it wasn't  _helping_ Q, it certainly wasn't hurting either. Since none of them were really sure how this whole thing worked in the first place, there was no reason to give up on their one and only strategy.

Still, Julia imagined how strange it must seem to Margo and Eliot, who had just appeared in the room along with Penny-23. If it weren't for the fact that Quentin was obviously deeply ill, it would look more like two lovers lounging in comfort in the middle of the day, bundled up for a nap in the coolness of an air-conditioned bedroom. An unconventional death bed scene, to be sure. Julia felt her stomach lurch and she took a steadying breath as she watched Margo and Eliot take in the scene before them.

"Why - " Eliot's voice cracked, and he tried again. "Why didn't you get us sooner?" He was staring at Quentin like he'd never seen him before. Q looked practically dead already, Julia thought with a desperate pang. He was so pallid he was almost grey, and the sheen of sweat on his face had started to dry off. There was the slightest bit of red around his lips from when he'd coughed up blood earlier.

"We thought we'd found the cure," Julia said. "And when we realized we were wrong, we were too late." Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. Far away.

"We uh... thought you two might want the chance to say goodbye," Penny-23 said awkwardly. Julia felt a bit sorry for him. Everyone else in this room really loved Quentin, and while Penny was fond of him in his own way, their relationship wasn't exactly warm. He must feel like such an intruder on their grief.

Upon hearing the word 'goodbye,' however, Margo and Eliot's heads both snapped around to stare at Penny.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Eliot asked, at the same time as Margo screeched: "Fuck  _that_ , and fuck you too, honestly!"

"We can't wake him up," Alice said from the bed. Her voice had been wavering all over the place for hours in increasing desperation, but now it sounded calm, dead. Kind of the way Julia felt. They'd had time - way too much time - to see Quentin shuddering in pain, and to process the sick blend of relief and dread that came from seeing him unconscious, and hopefully free from torment.

"No," Eliot said, hollow. "No, no. This is not happening right now."

"What curse is it?" Margo demanded. "You say he's cursed? Well what about the healing river, the... Chatwin's Torrent, or whatever the fuck it's called, in Fillory? There could still be time - "

"The witch who did this had... connections," Penny said. "She told us specifically that wouldn't work, and we have good reason to believe her. And besides, I'm pretty sure if we even tried to move him right now, he'd..." Penny trailed off, realizing there was no tactful way to finish the sentence.

A trapped, hurt sort of noise tore its way out of Margo's chest. She turned to look at Eliot, her eyes wide and wet. "But - we don't - we don't give  _up_ , I mean, it's  _Quentin_."

"You think we haven't tried everything?" Alice said.

"Believe me," Julia said. "Kady hasn't stopped researching since this happened, but... we really thought we'd sorted out the solution, and we blew our one shot attempting it. He's got hours left, if that," she said. "I'd do anything to fix this, but I can't."

"I can feel it, he's... fading," Alice said. "I wish I was wrong, I'd give anything to be wrong, but..."

Margo's face twisted up as she made a valiant effort not to burst into tears.She gripped Eliot's hand in hers, but Julia saw that Eliot's hand didn't grip back. He was looking at Quentin with mounting horror, and Julia knew he was facing the reality of the situation, letting the truth if it seep into his bones. Julia had already gone numb from the realization. She was grateful for it, but knew the pain would be all the worse once Quentin stopped breathing and the dam broke loose inside of her.

Eliot tugged his hand loose from Margo's and took a few steps toward the bed, his feet a bit unsteady. For a moment, he almost seemed like the monster again, with his strange, unblinking gaze and his unnatural sprawling gait, but the monster had never looked at anyone the way that Eliot was looking at Q right now. Julia watched his face, because observing his grief was easier than thinking about her own. Eliot crouched down next to the bed, reached a hand up, and slowly brushed his fingers down Q's cheek. He kept his hand there for a moment, cupping Quentin's jaw, and Julia saw, with a stab of shock, that Q's eyes were slowly fluttering open.

The room went deadly silent. Quentin let out a soft little sigh, his eyes focusing slowly on Eliot, who was leaning over him with an expression of pure agony on his face.

"Q," he whispered, and then, seemingly remembering that they weren't alone, his hand twitched guiltily and he removed it from Quentin's face.

The effect was immediate, and intense. Quentin gasped, his entire body convulsing. About an hour earlier, just before he'd fallen unconscious for what they had all thought was the last time, Q hadn't even been strong enough to lift his head from his pillow. But now, he surged up, his arms outstretched towards Eliot, a frantic sort of wildness in his eyes. He gripped Eliot's arm before it could get too far away from him, grabbed his hand, and placed it back where it had been on Q's cheek. Eliot crashed to his knees from where he'd been bending over the bed, looking terrified, his gaze swinging between Quentin's scrunched up face up to Margo, over to Julia, seeking answers. Q had fallen back against the pillows, breathing hard, keeping Eliot with him.

"El." Q's voice was so hoarse it hurt to hear, and Julia saw Eliot visibly flinch at the sound. "Stay."

"Quentin?" Eliot said, a little uncertain. He kept his hand on Q's face, running his fingers up and down, petting gently. Q's harsh breathing began to slow back down to a quiet wheeze. "Q, can you hear me?"

"Mmm. Hurts..." Q said softly. "...less, now." He lifted a hand weakly, brushing it over Eliot's where it rested against his face.

Eliot's face was a study in contrasts - heartbroken and agonized, yes - but also unbelievably tender, full of so much gentle affection that Julia felt mesmerized by it, second-hand. "I'm here," he said, his voice wobbling and distorting around the words. He brushed his thumb lightly across Q's cracked lower lip, and then brought his other hand up, curling it along the other side of Q's face. Q gave a soft, peaceful sounding sigh, his eyelashes fluttering as he fought to keep his eyes on Eliot.

"Oh my God."

It was Alice, her voice cold and shocked. Despite the fact that she'd been in the bed next to Q this whole time, plastered up against his side, Julia had managed to nearly forget about her. She sat up in the bed, staring down at Quentin with a look Julia could almost describe as disgust on her face. She got up, disconnecting herself from Quentin, and Julia was about to protest that she shouldn't risk such a thing when suddenly the full impact of what had just happened slammed into her.

"Holy  _shit_ ," Penny-23 said from across the room, seemingly coming to the same conclusion. Alice was off the bed now, heading for the doorway, her breathing harsh and pained.

Julia blinked a few times, and then decided the best way of dealing with  _this_  little revelation was to be practical about it. "Eliot," she said, her voice authoritative and loud. "Get in the bed with him, and whatever you do, don't stop touching him. Skin to skin."

Eliot only hesitated for a moment, glancing down at Q's gaunt, devastating face, before he obeyed, sliding in beside Q in the bed, taking over the spot Julia had been in earlier. He slid the hand cupping his cheek around the back of his neck, and took one of Q's hands in the other, gripping it tight. 

"Someone tell me what the fuck is going on here," he said. Julia could see tears pooling in his eyes. They were bright with anger and desolation, and the hand holding Q's was squeezing so tight she flexed her own hand in pained sympathy.

Penny-23 walked wordlessly over to the dresser and grabbed the piece of paper with the curse written on it, shoving it into Margo's hands. Margo skimmed it, then gasped, looking down at Eliot and Quentin.

"Bambi,  _what?_ " Eliot said, desperate. "What's wrong with him?" His voice was shaking. Margo shook her head wordlessly, her mouth gaping open a bit, clearly struggling with where to start.

Q gave a little moan, this one sounding a bit like relief, and burrowed his head against Eliot's chest. Eliot's arm went around him reflexively, squeezing tight. Julia could see that both Eliot and Q were trembling, head to toe.

"He's gonna be okay," Margo said, breathless, and her expression of shock slowly morphed into a grin of relief. Julia found herself suddenly completely unable to stay upright, and she sank down onto the corner of the bed furthest from Q, a smile of her own slowly breaking across her face.

"What?" Eliot said, "I thought you said he was... I thought he was  _dying._ " Tears were streaming down his face freely now, and he was staring down at Quentin like he was worried he would disappear right out of his arms.

Vaguely, Julia heard Penny cross the room and head out to the hall. She hoped he was going to find Alice, but at the moment, she had bigger things to worry about.

"You're going to want to make yourself comfortable," she said, smiling at Eliot in gratitude. "You're going to be there for a while."

Quentin shifted a little, looking up at Eliot and smiling, so weak, so small, but already visibly improved. "Hey," he said. "'S good to see you, El."

Eliot drew in a ragged breath and bit back on a sob. "Q, what's happening?" he asked, his voice thready and thin.

"Stay," was all Quentin said, and he rested his head back on Eliot's chest. Within minutes, his breathing had slowed and his face had gone slack, but Julia knew immediately that this was the unconsciousness of a deep, healing sleep, and not the restless, painful blackout of near death.

"Someone fucking  _explain_ ," Eliot said.

And so Julia did. She watched as the truth of it settled on Eliot's face, as he stared down at Q, sleeping against his chest, and realized what this meant. His eyes flickered to the door and then blinked rapidly a few times, with what Julia thought was guilt. He was probably registering Alice's sudden departure, her near nakedness as she'd tried to provide her healing touch to the man she loved in his time of need.

"Oh. God," Eliot said, and his eyes slipped shut, his face crumpling. He leaned down and pressed his lips into Quentin's hair, and then breathed in, deep. " _God_. Quentin."

Julia closed her eyes, feeling the burn of relief and exhaustion. In Eliot's voice, Q's name sounded like a prayer.

 


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Q and Eliot talk. A lot. There are some tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I really thought this was going to just be two parts, but Q and Eliot literally would not shut up. Apparently they had a lot to talk about. Part three will be coming along before too long. 
> 
> Also, please note that there's some discussion of Q's depression here; nothing serious, but it is brought up. And there's a brief moment wherein Eliot recalls an argument and it gets a little problematic, I guess you could say, in regards to Eliot respecting Q's sexuality. Because I think Eliot can be really hurtful when he wants to be.
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the chapter.

**ELIOT**

It took nearly an hour for Eliot to un-clench his limbs and relax properly back into the bed. Q had stopped shaking once he fell into a deep slumber, but Eliot couldn't stop the vibrations in his own arms, the tension in his muscles as he held Q to him like a prisoner. Touching Q wasn't exactly a hardship, but there was something terrifying about knowing that if he shifted his position and they disconnected, he could be putting Quentin's life in serious peril. Julia and Margo had both helped Eliot to get somewhat more comfortable, assisting him in peeling off layers of clothing while he somewhat awkwardly kept one of Quentin's hands firmly clasped alternately in each of his own. Now he was in a pair of Penny-23's sweats and nothing else, and Q was curled up practically on top of him, which was honestly just the way Eliot wanted it.

"Okay, spill," Margo said. She was sitting on a chair pulled up to the edge of the bed, staring with squinting eyes at Eliot and Quentin, tangled up together in the bed. Julia had left to catch a couple of hours of sleep, while Margo stayed close by, ready to fetch anything Eliot needed, since he wasn't exactly able to move.

"Spill what?" Eliot said, stalling for time.

"When exactly, in the last couple of years, have you and Q had time to have some torrid, passionate love affair, that none of us knew about?"

Eliot let out a little laugh that sounded just shy of hysterical. In the last two hours he'd gone from studying Fillorian border maps and joking around with Fen, to finding out Quentin was dying, to finding out Quentin  _wasn't_  going to die, and that Eliot was the only thing capable of saving him with the power of  _love_. His emotions were all the hell over the place, and he wasn't sure he'd actually stopped crying at all since Penny-23 had Traveled him into this room and he'd seen Quentin's weakened, ruined body. He rubbed a hand up and down Q's arm, slowly, gently, and Q murmured contentedly in his sleep, nuzzling his cheek into Eliot's chest. Warmth bloomed inside Eliot and he shivered, ducking down to press another kiss on the crown of Q's head.

"That's not entirely what happened," he said finally, in answer to Margo's question.

"You should see the way you're looking at him," Margo said, and while he suspected she may have been going for teasing, the words came out completely sincere.

He looked up at Margo, tightened his lips for a moment, and then shrugged. "So I love him. Obviously you knew that. I mean, I'm a pretty good liar, but I've never been able to hide anything from you."

"Sure, I knew you had a  _crush_ , and I knew you loved him, like, as a friend, but  _this_ is... this is some Sleeping Beauty True-Love's-Kiss Fairy-Tale bullshit and I, for one, would like an explanation. I bet Alice would appreciate one, too, for that matter."

Eliot rolled his eyes, but he did feel a pang of guilt at the thought of Alice. He'd probably have to talk to her at some point, but the priority right now had to be Quentin's health. "Remember the time you had to dig up a corpse to save me and Q from dying of old age on the key quest?'

There were a couple of seconds of silence, but Margo, to her credit, figured it out almost instantly. "Well,  _shit_ ," she said, letting out a low whistle. "You guys remember the erased timeline?"

"Yeah. Not sure how, exactly," Eliot said, nonchalant. "But it happened, it... I mean it  _feels_  like it happened."

"So you fell in love," Margo said, a hint of wonderment in her voice. "And you grew old together?"

"We met a girl," Eliot said. "Q married her - well, we kinda both married her, unofficially. We had a son."

"Oh my God, that's..." Margo's expression looked almost incredulous. "That is like the most romantic shit I've ever heard in my  _life_ , El."

Eliot laughed. "Yeah, it was," he said, moving a hand up to brush through Q's sweat-soaked hair. "I still managed to fuck it up, though."

"Why did you never tell me?" Margo asked. She didn't sound hurt, just curious.

"Like I said, I fucked it up." He sighed, wishing he could pull Q somehow even closer. "There was just a lot going on... I know that sounds stupid. It hurt to think about it. So we didn't. Q wanted to talk about it, but I wouldn't let him."

"Well, I think you two might have to have that conversation now."

"We did," Eliot said. "Eventually, I mean. I apologized for being a coward. We... we're good, now."

The words sounded completely inadequate to his own ears. What the hell did this mean, exactly? How were they  _good_? Apparently, some bizarre hedge curse knew just how much Eliot loved Quentin, and as much as Eliot always doubted the truth of it, he had to admit it seemed like his feelings might just be reciprocated. Did that matter? Did it make a difference, when Eliot knew for a fact that Q was happy with Alice?

"Right," Margo said, sounding dubious. "Nothing about this situation screams  _good_  or  _well-adjusted_  or  _just pals_  to me."

"I don't know what you want me to say." He felt somehow defensive, and he hated feeling that way with Margo of all people.

"That you want him? Want to forsake all others and ride off into the sunset? Maybe start with just saying it - you're in love with him."

Eliot's hands flexed against Q's skin. Quentin was still breathing evenly, clearly in a deep sleep, unable to hear any of this - but Eliot still felt his throat close around the words. "I guess so."

Margo huffed, threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, and fixed him with a glare. "You literally have  _magical proof_  that you do. What the hell are you so afraid of?"

_That he'll figure out I'm not what he wants._ Eliot thought miserably. Hell, Q already  _had_  figured that out. He'd chosen Alice, clear as could be. But Margo didn't need to be subjected to his pity party.

"Fine. Yes, I'm in love with him. And if my pathetic pining is what's saving his life right now, I'm not even sorry about it."

Margo stood up and leaned down to kiss first Eliot, and then Quentin, on the forehead. "You are both so incredibly stupid," she cooed.

* * *

Q slept for about six hours, and Eliot managed to doze off for a couple of them. He had the confused impression that Alice had been in the room for a while, sitting in the chair Margo had vacated and crying quietly, but he couldn't be sure.

He woke up to find that someone had pulled the drapes down. The apartment was dark. It took a moment to realize why he'd woken up, but he suddenly realized that Q was moving, shifting against him, tightening an arm around his waist.

"Hey," Q mumbled into his chest.

"Hey," Eliot echoed, and then felt it as Q went very still, seeming to realize who he was lying in bed with.

"Um. What. When did you get here?" he asked.

"Apparently at the last possible fucking second," Eliot said, voice hoarse. Q looked so much better now, but every time Eliot closed his eyes he saw that pallid, slack face, blood spotting cracked lips, purple circles under his eyes... he shuddered, squeezing his fingertips into Q's flesh for a moment, seeking reassurance.

"What?" Quentin asked, confused, and then Eliot felt it, the moment the full reality of the situation settled in on him. " _Oh_ ," he said, and he jerked upward, instinctively seeking some space.

"Hey,  _careful_ ," Eliot said, panicked, keeping his hands on Quentin's arms and squeezing tight. "We have to be touching." He pulled Quentin back towards him, maybe a little too rough, but Q came willingly enough, resting his forehead against Eliot's shoulder.

"How long have we..."

"Six hours and twenty-seven minutes," Eliot said, glancing down at the timer on a phone someone had set up. "Approximately."

"I... Eliot, I'm so  _sorry_ ," Quentin said, sounding truly devastated.

Eliot had vaguely wondered what Q's reaction would be when he figured out just what the hell was going on, but an anguished apology hadn't been at the top of his list. "What?" he said, stupidly.

"You shouldn't have to do this, you don't have to stay - "

"You're kidding, right?" Eliot said, alarmed. "I have no idea what you're sorry for, Q, but do you actually think I'd just walk away and let you  _die_?"

Q shuddered briefly, and Eliot felt a warm tear fall from Q's face onto his bare shoulder. "No. Obviously. Sorry. I'm just... not thinking clearly. I just meant I'm so sorry you got mixed up in this."

"Mixed up in what?" Eliot asked, brushing a hand along Q's back. He was going for comforting, but Q made a little pained sound and went stiff, so Eliot removed his hand, settling instead for placing it against Q's arm.

"I'm pathetic. I thought it would be Alice, but of course it's not, of course I can't just move on like a normal person..."

"Shut the fuck up," Eliot said. "I don't like it when people insult my best friends. You're not pathetic, Q, and this doesn't - okay, look, I've been laying here for a couple of hours thinking about this, and I don't think this has to change anything, alright?"

Quentin laughed, humorless, against his shoulder, and then lifted his head to meet Eliot's eyes. They were both sitting up in the bed now, and Eliot told himself it was because of the curse that he reached forward with his other hand until he had both of Q's hands enveloped in his own. This was the easiest way to make sure they didn't accidentally disconnect while they were talking. Also, it felt as natural as breathing, which he just wasn't going to focus on right now.

"How could it not change anything?" Q asked, looking miserable. "Now that we both know..."

"Here's what I know," Eliot said, trying to keep his tone steady. "Alice loves you. Just because some weird, ambiguously worded curse thinks that I love you  _more_ , doesn't mean that what you and Alice have isn't real."

Quentin's eyebrows rose, and his mouth dropped open for a moment before he snapped it back shut. "You - are you trying to be... like...  _nice_  to me right now?" he asked, clearly confused.

"I'm always nice to you," Eliot said.

"No," Q laughed, "I mean, are you trying to give me an easy out? You know that's not what the curse says."

"Um... explain," Eliot said. His heart had literally just skipped a beat, but he kept his voice low and even, looking at Q.

"It says that the curse will be ended by twenty-four hours of uninterrupted physical contact with the cursed party's  _dearest love_. It's not about who loves  _me_  the most, it's... it's who  _I_  love - "

"That's not necessarily true," Eliot interrupted, because he simply could not let himself hear Q say those words. He felt a little giddy, but also scared. Q was  _sick_ , he'd almost died, he obviously didn't know what he was saying. "You thought it was Alice, because you  _love_  her, Q. If you'd known there was a chance it was me, you would have sent for me sooner, but you didn't, and..." he trailed off, feeling his blood run cold. "Jesus fucking  _Christ_ , please tell me you - please tell me you had no idea it would be me."

"Um," Q said, looking a little awkward. "No, I mean, it's like you said, the curse is ambiguously worded. I really did think Alice and Jules were helping."

"Oh, you motherfucking  _asshole_ ," Eliot said, feeling his heart crack open.

"What?" Q looked at him sharply, startled. "What did I do?"

"Why didn't you  _send for me_ , if you thought - if you, if you love me like that - Q, you almost  _died_ ," Eliot had started crying again at some point, and he yanked Q forward into his lap, burying his face in his neck. Q gripped him back, hard, shivering in apparent surprise. One of his hands came up and grasped a handful of Eliot's hair, hard enough to hurt.

"I'm sorry," Q said, a little helplessly. He sounded alarmed at Eliot's reaction, the stupid little idiot, like he didn't understand why Eliot might be distressed at the thought of him dying. "I'm not trying to scare you, here."

"Well, you're doing a fucking excellent job of it. You have a death wish or something, Q? I thought you were in a good place, I thought you were  _happy_."

"You think you love me more than Alice does?" Q demanded, pulling out of Eliot's arms. He kept them close, though, reconnecting their hands, glaring when Eliot tightened his grip reflexively.

"I think if anyone loved you more than I do, they'd die of it," Eliot said.

It was an inexcusably dramatic thing to say, but he  _was_  just a little worked up. And he couldn't deny the little thrill of satisfaction he got from seeing the way Quentin's face transformed at these words. His expression went slack; pure, radiant shock and hope lighting up every inch of him.

"Oh, and  _I'm_  the asshole?" Q managed weakly. "You never said..."

"You were with Alice!"

"You  _rejected_  me, Eliot!" Q said, now sounding more exasperated than heartbroken.

"Oh my God, Quentin, our stupid fucking communication skills could have  _literally killed you_ ," Eliot said. It would have been funny, if it wasn't so horrifying.

He grabbed Q's shoulders, positioning him so they were keeping eye contact, and then he just said it, without pausing to second guess himself. "Okay, just to be, like, abso-fucking-lutely clear, here, I'm in love with you. Like, scary levels of love. Totally, desperately, kill for you, die for you kind of love. I had figured you'd put that together, but obviously if I'd realized your  _life_  depended on it, I would have said it out loud a lot sooner."

There was a pregnant pause, and then -

"Shit," Q said, looking at him in wonderment. "That was quite the speech."

"I've got a way with words," Eliot said, glaring. "And I was properly motivated, you dick."

"I... uh. Same, in case that wasn't already clear. I'm in love with you too. I have been for... well, I guess technically longer than either of us have been alive."

Eliot felt his mouth start to crack into a truly embarrassing, dopey smile. Q, however, was sporting an expression more akin to shamed confusion. "I thought I was okay with just being your friend," he said, a little miserably, "And I  _am_ , I mean, I haven't been... pining, or maybe I  _have_  been - shit. I'm such an asshole."

"Yeah, that's been established," Eliot said, his voice high and a little breathy. "But maybe let's focus on the important part - you love me?"

Quentin just nodded, looking dazed, and Eliot waited for Q to catch up to what was happening, watched as his feelings of confusion drained away, to be replaced with an expression of comprehension - almost of awe - as he looked up at Eliot. "You  _love_  me," he echoed, blinking.

Eliot moved his hands up Q's arms until he was cupping Q's face, then tilted their foreheads together.  "So much, Q. More than anything." Quentin moved into him by instinct, but just before their lips connected, he twitched slightly, pulling back just a touch, but keeping their faces millimeters apart.

 "When I said I was an asshole..." he sighed. "I mean... it's just...  _Alice_."

That let some of the air out of Eliot's tires. "Yeah. Alice."

"Um," Quentin's face, still so pale and tired, went a little red. "I obviously have to talk to her, Eliot. About all of this."

"I get that."

"I just want you to know that if I hadn't made a commitment to someone else, I really would be kissing you right now." The expression on his face was so earnest, so hopeful and wanting, that Eliot felt like he'd just had the wind knocked out of him. The fact that he couldn't lean down and press his lips into that cute little face was truly a crime.

"Well...  _fuck_." Not his most brilliant response.

"Yeah, also that," Quentin said, grinning up at him in a mixture of embarrassment and delight. "Lots of that."

"Oh my God, stop," Eliot said, smiling again, so big his face hurt. He pulled Q forward again, hugging him hard. "You're still sick. You're not allowed to be this fucking adorable."

After a few moments, by mutual agreement, they readjusted their position so that Q could cuddle up against Eliot's chest again. "Once I'm better, I'm gonna talk to her. So we're clear." He wriggled slightly, settling back against the warmth of Eliot's body.

"Yeah."

"And then we're going to be together." It wasn't quite a question, but Eliot knew Quentin still needed an answer from him.

"Absolutely. We're going to be one of those annoying couples, Q, the really, really happy sickly-sweet ones - I'm going to show you off to  _everyone_  and never stop holding your hand. It'll be truly nauseating."

"And you're not going to freak out and decide I don't really want this," Quentin said. "Because I've wanted this for so long, El - "

"I know," Eliot interrupted, suddenly somber. "I'm stupid. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Quentin said, his voice going soft. "You just brought me back to life with the power of  _love_  so I think I can forgive you. God, magic is the  _best_."

Eliot chuckled at Q's drowsy tone. "Go back to sleep, hmm? We'll talk more when you're all better."

Q normally took forever to fall asleep, but he was still exhausted and weak, and within seconds he was breathing, deep and slow, against Eliot's chest once again. Eliot felt the little warm puffs of breath against his sternum, and felt like his heart was going to explode.

"I love you," he said out loud, just to see how it felt, with the object of his affection lying warm and solid against him. Q smiled in his sleep.

* * *

It was hours later, and Eliot was half asleep, when the door creaked open, He watched, wary yet completely unsurprised, as Alice enter the room.

"He's asleep?" she asked, coming to sit in the chair closest to Eliot.

Eliot nodded in the dim light. There were a lot of reasons to apologize to Alice right now, but the one that came to him first was: "Shit, we're in your room. Sorry about that."

Alice laughed, a quiet huff of air utterly devoid of humor. "It was Q's room before it was mine." She was silent for a long stretch. "I suppose I should be saying thank you."

"You really don't have to do that," Eliot said.

Alice shrugged. "You saved his life."

"I'm sorry."

Alice blinked at him.

"I mean, I'm obviously not  _sorry_... I - you know what I mean. You make me nervous, Alice."

"I  _do_?" she sounded almost happy about it. "But you're - Eliot Waugh."

"And you're Alice Quinn. Q fell for you, back at the start, before I even had a chance to seduce him," Eliot said, trying for a teasing smile.

"And then he slept with you before he and I had a chance to find out if we could be happy."

"I'm not a good person," Eliot said. He was hyper aware of Q, lying next to him in the bed, his head pillowed on Eliot's lap. They'd adjusted positions so Eliot could sit up for a while and still stay close while Q slept. Eliot had a hand tangled in his hair, a point of contact to break the curse, and also a necessary anchor for this extremely awkward conversation.

"But that's just it," Alice said. "You  _are_  a good person. I wish you weren't. It would make me feel better about kinda hating you."

Eliot laughed, a little higher pitched than normal, but kept his hand gentle in Q's hair, careful not to wake him. "It doesn't have to be a competition, you know," he said. It was probably an awful thing to say to her, given that Eliot was 99.9% sure he'd already won. But he'd meant it kindly, and he hoped she would see that.

Alice nodded thoughtfully, staring down into Q's sleeping face. "I'm not giving him to you," she said finally. "If I can keep him, I will. I know it's a long shot, but... I love him."

Eliot had never been a jealous or possessive person, but at Alice's words, some ugly instinct, buried deep within him reared its head. He thought about taking the hand twisted in Q's hair and moving it down Q's face, down around the back of his neck where Q liked to be held. He thought about doing it deliberately, watching Alice's face for a reaction as he branded Q with his fingers -  _he's mine, and even magic itself thinks so_. But he didn't - he kept his hand carefully still, and swallowed a few times to suppress the strength of his involuntary response.

"You can't give him to me, because he's not yours," he finally managed, voice husky. "He's not mine either. It's his choice."

"I know that," Alice snapped. "I just meant I'm not going to bow out, or let him off easy."

 _Why not?_  Eliot wanted to ask.  _You'll just hurt him, making him reject you._  Uncharitably, he thought about explaining to Alice exactly how sure he was about Q's decision. When he tried to put himself in her shoes, he couldn't - when Quentin had chosen him in the past, he'd run away from it. He knew, if Q were to open his eyes right now and change his mind, say he'd wanted Alice all along, that he'd back off and let Q go. He'd tear himself to shreds before he'd let himself get in the way of Q's happiness. But that didn't mean the was better than Alice - it meant he was an insecure asshole who ran away from what was right instead of being willing to fight for it. Alice was the brave one. Q was the brave one. God, they could have been really good together.

"That's your prerogative," he said. "But I'm not going anywhere either, unless Q asks me to leave."

Alice nodded, seemingly not surprised. "How long have you loved him?"

Telling Margo about this was one thing, but Alice? Eliot just shrugged, finally giving in to the urge to move his hand a bit, slide his fingers through the soft, slightly damp strands of Q's hair. "A lifetime."

Eliot looked up at her, and suddenly he felt like he could read her mind as well as any telepath. She wanted to ask him, wanted to know how long Quentin had felt the same way. But she wouldn't. She knew as well as he did that Q had to be the one to deliver the final blow.

* * *

The next time Q woke up, two hours later, he was feeling much better. Well enough, in fact, to risk a trip to the bathroom. Eliot was grateful - his own bladder situation had gotten to the point where he was seriously considering taking Julia up on her horrifying bedpan suggestion. Holding hands with someone while you tried to take a piss wasn't exactly sexy, but  _god_  was it preferable to the alternative.

They both ate something, and while Q wasn't up for standing long enough to take a shower, he did let Eliot and Julia change him into a new pair of underwear and a comfortable pair of sweats. That, combined with a wet cloth to wipe away some of the dried sweat, and freshly brushed teeth, made all the difference. Julia even changed the sheets on the bed, fresh, crisp linens replacing the crumpled ones that Quentin had been lying in for nearly 40 hours already.

The most important confessions and love declarations taken care of, Eliot was somewhat bemused to discover that he and Q still had a  _lot_  of stuff to talk about. Q was still exhausted, so they kept the conversations short, pausing often for Q to rest his eyes or drink some water. They talked about everything, some of it benign, catching up on the latest Library chaos and Fillorian politics. Eliot confided to Q that he still had nightmares sometimes, visions of what the monster had done while wearing his body, and Q had confessed, haltingly, the horror of watching Eliot's body being used in that way, the agony of being touched by Eliot's hands without Eliot himself being there.

They talked about the life they remembered living together - lots of happy memories, of course, but also the remembrance of pain, loneliness, the aches and joys of parenting. And sometime around hour eleven, they re-started some ancient arguments about the parameters of their relationship during the key quest. There had been the polyamory negotiations, the small and not-so-small jealousies that came from sharing one another with a third person. There had been Teddy, the navigation of what that meant for them, becoming parents in a world that wasn't quite theirs.

They even got around to re-opening a particularly sore emotional wound, that of Q's track-record, sexually speaking, and what it meant for them that Q had married Arielle when they were together in Fillory. Eliot still had that fight memorized - it was one of the things he'd played back in his mind over and over again while he was trapped in his stupid happy place, waiting to be rescued. How unfair was it that he could remember exactly the cruel things he'd said to Q in a moment of anger, but other things, like the exact shade of Arielle's pretty eyes, had started to go dim?

( _"I shouldn't have to provide_ receipts _for you to believe that I'm attracted to men, El! It shouldn't matter if I've never even looked at another guy before you, because_ I. am. in. love. with. you _._ "

 _"You think that, but it_ _matters. How would you like it if there was something fundamental about you that I only tolerated - "_

_"I more than tolerate your dick, Eliot. You're being really fucking biphobic."_

_"Oh_ please _, you think you've got things all figured out, think you're a proper little queer just because you don't mind sucking cock -_ "

 _"If you're not careful, I'm going to_ start  _minding it, real fast - "_ )

It had been their worst ever fight by a significant margin, and had resulted in three days of nearly complete silence between them. Arielle, bless her, had brokered a peace, threatening to pick up and leave them both unless they got their shit together.

Eliot had been sure that particular insecurity was behind him, and in a way it was. He couldn't exactly lie to himself anymore about Q loving him. He knew what they had was real, and not just because of this magically convenient curse coming along to prove it. 

But apparently, old fears have a way of creeping, insidious, into a person's soul. Logically, Eliot knew Q hadn't chosen Arielle over him - El had been the one to approach Ari in the first place, inviting her into their bed - and he hadn't chosen Alice over him, either: Q hadn't even known he  _had_  a choice, in that case.

"You're absolutely sure you want to break up with Alice?" Eliot had asked at one point, while Q picked at a plate of saltine crackers Julia had delivered shortly before. His stomach was only accepting bland foods.

"What?" Quentin said. "Jesus, El, are you even listening to me? What have we been talking about this whole time?"

"I'm just pointing out that it's possible to be in love with more than one person at a time. You and Alice worked really hard to repair what you had, and I don't want you to just... I don't want..."

"I thought you said we were going to be obnoxiously in love, one of those couples who gross everyone out with their PDA," Q said, going for teasing but sounding a little hurt. "If you're not sure about this - "

"I'm fucking sure," Eliot said, a little harshly. "I just want to make sure  _you're_  - "

"What's it going to take?" Q asked, exasperated, "for you to  _believe_  me? For you to trust that I know what I want?"

 _Time_ , was the honest answer, Eliot knew. He was sorry for it. He wished he could be confident in what Q felt for him, but even now he knew he'd have to work through his doubts. He was also remembering the glint of determination in Alice's eyes -  _I'm not giving him to you_. He and Q had this enforced period of uninterrupted time together, to talk through any and all issues and make decisions about their relationship, but Q still had a conversation with Alice ahead of him. Eliot knew - he  _knew_ , that Q wasn't fickle. He wasn't going to change his mind the second he got into a room alone with Alice. But knowing was one thing, and feeling was another.

Instead of saying any of that, he sighed, tugging Q a little more firmly into his side. "You're right. I'm sorry."

Q was silent for a long time, munching despondently on a cracker. "Eliot... if it weren't for the curse, if it weren't for the fact that I almost died, would you... I mean, would you ever have said anything to me?"

Eliot chewed on his lip for a moment, not sure how to answer. "Honestly? As long as you were still with Alice, probably not."

"So... you were okay with it, just... I mean, us being friends, and nothing more than that?"

"I don't know if 'okay' is the word I'd use," Eliot said slowly. "I just didn't think there was an alternative. And I'll always want you, Q. In whatever way I can have you."

"We're both really stupid," Quentin said, sounding pained. "I should have fought harder for you."

"No, Q, listen - I wouldn't have let you, alright? It was  _me_ , I was afraid of being happy."

"Honestly, nearly dying was probably worth it, if that's what it takes to get us to talk about - ow." Q stopped, and Eliot realized he'd just constricted his hand, hard, squeezing into the flesh of Q's arm. He relaxed the hand, with considerable effort.

"Sorry," he said. "But don't say that."

"El, I just meant - "

"Do you have any idea, Q, do you  _understand_  - when I saw you lying there, you were... I thought I was going to die right there with you, and I  _wanted_ to."

Q blinked at him. "Um. Jesus."

"I was so terrified. All I could think about was how much I regretted every second I'd spent away from you. It all felt so stupid and pointless. You were dying and my whole world was dying with you."

Q set the plate of crackers down on the table next to him, and reached forward for Eliot. One of Q's hands brushed away a tear from the corner of Eliot's eye, one he hadn't even noticed. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Eliot, I can't even imagine how I would have felt if it had been you."

"Just... sometimes you say these things, Q, and you - you have to understand that your life doesn't just belong to you, okay? I can't even think about what I would do if something happened to you, and it's not just me, either. All of us would be lost without you."

Eliot frowned, taking Q's hand and removing it from his face. For the first time since this had all started, he kind of wished he could walk away from Q, give himself a moment alone to process everything that had happened. To combat the thought, he squeezed Q's hand, hard, and then tugged him forward until Q was leaning up against his shoulder.

"I wasn't saying..." Q sighed, and when he spoke again his voice was much quieter, a little timid. "It was a stupid thing to say, and I didn't mean it. I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."

Eliot was definitely not equipped to be Q's support system when it came to this kind of thing. He had vague memories of learning how to help him during their lifetime together, but he felt clumsy with it now, not sure what to say or how far to push.

"If you ever feel..." he began, and then kissed Q's forehead to fortify his nerves. "If you ever feel differently, like maybe you don't want to be here anymore, or..." he coughed. "Q, just promise me you'll come to me. Or to someone, anyone. I feel like a dick for making this about me, but you really scare me sometimes, and I hate that I don't know how to help you."

"Just be with me," Q said. "That's incredibly helpful, Eliot. You have no idea."

"I can do that." He kissed Q's forehead again, breathing in deep, then dipped his head lower and kissed his nose, his cheek, right up against the corner of his mouth. Q sucked in a breath of air and leaned in, their noses touching.

"I really..." he started.

Eliot swallowed. Hard. "Yeah, me too." It would be so easy to kiss him right now, and he knew if he did it, Q would let him. He could feel Q's breath on his face. He felt actually paralyzed with want. And then, as the moment lingered between them, for one beat, two, three... he felt is as Q tensed, and backed off ever so slightly.

"Maybe we should... uh..." Q shifted, moving away from Eliot on the bed. He slid his hand down Eliot's arm and gripped their hands together tight, a single point of contact. "Just for a little bit."

Eliot nodded. Bit his lip. Cleared his throat. "I was a coward. When I apologized for rejecting you. I had it all planned out, you know? Inside my head, I rehearsed it. I really was going to tell you, I was going to ask you if I was too late."

Q squeezed his hand but didn't move any closer. "But you didn't."

"You were - "

"With Alice," Q interrupted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

"I really was trying to do the right thing. I didn't want to break you guys up or cause issues there. But I'm also trying, right now, to do this thing where I don't lie to myself anymore. And. I was also just taking the easy way out, you know?"

"It was easier for you to want me and not be able to have me, than to just tell me how you felt?"

Eliot laughed out loud. "That seriously confuses you, doesn't it? God, if only we could all be as brave as you are, Q. It's one of the things I admire most about you."

Q smiled at him, then tipped himself sideways so he could kiss Eliot's bare shoulder. He sat back up, though, maintaining their distance. "I heard what you said, that day... but then when you broke free of the monster, and you said..."

"Proof of concept," Eliot finished. "It was all happening so fast, Q. I needed you to believe that it was me, and I wanted you to know, in case I never - in case we never got to..."

"Eliot," Q said, sounding helpless. Eliot looked over at him to see that his eyes were starting to water. He didn't seem miserable though, more just overwhelmed. "El. We're going to get it right, this time, okay? We have that chance. I'm just so glad we're both here."

Eliot smiled, feeling something loosen in his chest. He tugged Q's hand experimentally, and was rewarded when Quentin shuffled closer. Q had always been good at cutting to the heart of things.

* * *

At one point, sometime during hour sixteen or so, Eliot woke from a doze to see Kady sitting on the chair next to the bed. She gave him a small nod when she noticed he was awake.

"Julia's asleep. Thought I'd come check on you guys."

"Thanks," Eliot said. He was never quite sure how to behave around Kady; they'd never been close. He studied her flinty expression for a moment, and suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to say: "Hey, so... the hedge witch fucker who did this to him..."  _who tried to take him away from me_ , he added in his mind. "What's the plan there?"

"Taken care of," Kady said, her voice cold as ice. "Believe me, she won't be an issue any longer."

"Oh, I believe you," Eliot said, smiling. "You're a scary motherfucker, you know that?"

Kady stood up, smiling in a way that made her seem just a little less intimidating, and reached over to place a somewhat awkward hand on Eliot's arm. "We all care about him, so... don't fuck it up."

She had walked out of the room before Eliot could decide how to respond.

* * *

The next time they were both awake, they continued their painstaking walk through memory lane. It was like being at couple's counseling without the therapist. Q was the one who insisted they get everything out in the open, but Eliot was surprised to find that he didn't really mind. He'd been afraid for so long of letting himself have something real and beautiful, afraid that something he did or said was going to break it. If they talked it all out now, in a situation where they literally couldn't storm out of the room to escape, then maybe they'd have a real shot of making this work. It wasn't easy, but a lot of it was actually a lot less terrible than Eliot would have expected.

The whole Alice conversation had gone in circles so many times that Eliot was more than a little relieved to discover that not every sticky subject was going to be as difficult to untangle. At one point, Q had turned to him and said, his voice nervous and yet oddly stern: "There's also the fact that you're married."

They were somewhere in hour eighteen at this point, both restless. Q was still having trouble standing for any stretch of time, his muscles weakened by the illness that had nearly killed him. Still, they were taking periodic strolls around the perimeter of the room, hands clasped tightly together, allowing Eliot to stretch his legs and Q to begin rebuilding some strength.

"Oh, Fen won't be a problem," Eliot said. "I'm not sure how difficult it'll be to get a divorce in Fillory, especially since Fen's proper royalty now, but I bet it's possible, and I know she won't cause trouble."

"And... that's what you want to do?"

Eliot stopped, turning to face Quentin so he could see his face. He kept their hands tangled up together, then raised his other hand to brush a lock of hair away from Q's eye, leaving his fingers lingering against his cheek. "What, you think I'd stay married to her? After  _this_?"

Q smiled at him, eyes bright and happy but also a little uncertain. "I know you love her," he said. "And if that's what you wanted, I mean... we've done it before."

 _Oh, Q_.

"I do love Fen. I love her the way... well, the way I love Margo. The way you love Julia. Besides, it's not fair to keep her tied up when she should have the freedom to be with whoever she wants." Eliot hesitated, then smiled and tipped forward to brush his lips against Q's forehead. "I love you for offering, though."

"Just you and me, then?" Q asked, sounding adorably vulnerable. Eliot smiled at him.

"I think we've waited long enough, don't you?"


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curse is broken, and now the real healing can begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, so, this is once again much longer than I thought it would be. Also, I did change the rating to explicit because... sex happened? I have literally never written anything even remotely smutty before in my life, and when I was writing that scene I kept waiting for the moment when I could "fade to black" and then instead I just kept writing... so... yeah. I'm slightly embarrassed about it so go easy on me.

**ELIOT**

With just under four hours to go before the curse would be officially broken, Eliot found himself waking to the familiar feeling of Q's back pressed up against his chest. They were spooning, Eliot's arms holding Q tight, probably tighter than should have been comfortable for him, but Q had always liked feeling anchored in that way. He said it made him feel safe, and Eliot wasn't going to argue with that. It felt so incredibly nice, so  _normal_  to wake up this way, with the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the drapes, Q's heartbeat reassuringly strong under Eliot's hands, and... well. Technically, Eliot shouldn't have been familiar with the sensation of waking up next to this particular warm body nestled tightly against him, but he  _was_  familiar with it all the same. He shifted, his hips pressing deliciously against Q, and he heard a small happy sigh of pleasure as Q stirred awake.

"Morning," Q said, like this was an every day occurrence, like they were back in Fillory, middle-aged and so familiar with each other's bodies and minds that words were often unnecessary.

"Morning," Eliot said, dipping his head down to press his forehead into the back of Q's neck. He pressed a kiss there and then regretted it, worried ridiculously that this, of all things, was what constituted crossing a line.

"I'm starting to appreciate a unique challenge arising - so to speak - from this situation," Eliot said, trying to keep his tone conversational.

Quentin reached back to slap him on the shoulder in mild protest at the pun, squirming against Eliot slightly. "Oh yeah?"

"Well, when Julia first said we'd have to touch each other for twenty-four straight hours, I was a little too worried about your impending death to fully appreciate how... um..."

" _Nice_  it would feel?" Q finished. He flipped around in the bed so they were facing each other, hooking an arm around Eliot's neck. He shifted his hips just slightly until - yep _._ There it was. Good to know Eliot wasn't suffering alone.

"Nice. Nice is a word that might apply," Eliot agreed, a little breathless. "But now that you're no longer at death's door, um - " Q shifted again, and Eliot gasped. "Quentin."

Quentin laughed, a silky, warm sound that pooled low in Eliot's gut.

"I'm a shitty person for saying this," Eliot said, his entire body tense from trying  _not_ to push his hips forward in turn. "But I could pretend to be asleep and you could call Alice in here..."

Q actually looked like he was considering it for a moment, which was just...  _Jesus_ , but then he blinked, tearing his eyes away from Eliot with a little groan of frustration. "You're right, that's shitty, we can't. Uh. We can't do that." He tilted his head forward until it thunked lightly against Eliot's collarbone, and then he spoke, softly, his lips brushing against Eliot's skin. "Of course just talking about this is kind of already cheating, so..."

"Don't," Eliot said, hissing as he felt Q's teeth press very briefly, too soft, into the skin of his shoulder. "I'm trying to be a good person, here." Eliot realized that his hands had somehow ended up curled around Q's hips. He hadn't meant to put them there.

"Sorry," Q said, but he didn't sound that sorry, and he was dragging his lips along Eliot's chest now, one of his hands skimming up Eliot's torso towards his neck.

The door slammed open and Margo walked in, a tray of food in her hands. "Good morning, sleepy heads," she said. Eliot jerked his head up from where it had been staring down at Q's torturous progress, but squeezed his hands tighter on the skin of Q's waist.

"Hey, Bambi," he said, his voice way too bright. Margo gave him a knowing look, but actually decided, for once, not to say anything.

"I've brought sustenance. Healing boys need a healthy breakfast."

Q's face was bright red, and he turned slightly, trying to hide evidence of his arousal from Margo. This has the unintended consequence pressing Eliot and Q even closer together, and Eliot's breath hitched. Q caught his eye, biting his lip in half-amusement, half-shame.

"You two are a nightmare," Margo said, rolling her eyes and leaning over to set up a tray. "I promise I'm not trying to be a bitch, for once, but you do know that Alice is in the other room, waiting to talk to you, right?"

Quentin deflated a bit at that, nodding solemnly and picking up a piece of toast in a despondent sort of way. Eliot moved a hand along Q's free arm and squeezed his hand in what he hoped was a supportive, and not clingy, gesture.

"You're right," Q said. "This is just..."

"Hard?" Margo suggested. Eliot threw a grape at her head.

" _You're_ the nightmare," he chastised. Dumb sex puns were supposed to be  _his_  thing.

"Listen, Eliot," Margo said, suddenly a bit anxious. "I'm not sure how to say this..."

"Go," Eliot said, knowing immediately what she was going to say. "I get it, you should go. Fen needs you, and Josh will be back any time now."

Margo's mouth relaxed into a relieved smile. "Thank you. Q, baby, I'm so happy you're alright." She came forward and kissed Q on the cheek, then leaned over him to kiss Eliot on the mouth.

"And I'm just a phone-call away. Or, well. You know what I mean."

"Is Penny giving you a ride?" Q asked, biting in to his toast.

"No, he's helping Kady with some hedge business. I'll take the long way round." She meant the Neitherlands, which, while certainly safer now that the Library was - mostly - friendly, still wasn't exactly a stroll through the park.

Eliot frowned. "Margo, are you - "

"I can take care of myself," she said. "Seriously, honey, don't you think you have enough to worry about, keeping this poor boy alive with the healing power of your di- "

"Okay!" Q said loudly, pressing his face hard into Eliot's shoulder to hide his mortification. "Thanks for stopping by, Margo. Good luck in Fillory. Give Fen and Josh my best."

"If I have time, I'll try and remember," Margo said, and with a toss of her perfect hair, she gave one last genuine smile and left the room.

"I hate her," Q groaned, flopping down on the bed next to Eliot, keeping a hand curled around his elbow automatically.

Eliot sighed in contentment, popping a grape into his mouth. "I love her."

* * *

**JULIA**

"Less than an hour left," Julia said, just for something to say. Alice was sitting on the couch staring down at a mug of tea. It looked like the same one she'd had in her hand the last time Julia had seen her, hours ago, and it looked untouched.

"Yeah," Alice said, glancing up at her briefly and then back at the mug. Julia sighed, and then sat on the couch next to her. She hadn't been  _avoiding_  Alice over the last day, but what the hell was she supposed to say to someone, in this particular set of circumstances?

The truth was, Julia actually reallyliked Alice. Much more than she ever would have guessed in the earlier part of their acquaintance. If anyone in the world could understand the feelings of impotent rage that came from having all the power of the world at your fingertips, and then  _losing_  it, it would be Alice Quinn. Plus, their shared love for Quentin had practically forced them to get to know one another. If sides were to be taken, Julia would always take Quentin's, but she couldn't help but feel protective of Alice, too.

"I feel awkward," she confessed. "I don't know if there's anything I can say that would help."

"Did you know?" Alice asked her, voice a little cold. It took a moment for Julia to put together what Alice meant.

"No! Of course I didn't, Alice. You think if I'd known, I wouldn't have sent for Eliot right away? I know how much this sucks for you, but it's Q's life we're talking about."

Alice set her cup of untouched tea down on the coffee table and turned to look Julia in the eye. "Yes, I realize that. I guess I'm asking if you... were you  _surprised_ , when you realized?"

That was a much more difficult question. She thought hard before answering, wanting to give Alice the benefit of her honesty. "At first, yes. Really surprised. And then once I'd had the chance to think about it, some things started to make sense to me."

"Like what?" Alice asked. "Because I - Julia, I feel so  _stupid_. I had no idea, not even a little bit. I mean, there was that threesome, years ago, but I didn't think Q thought of Eliot like that, not  _really_."

Julia took Alice's hand, and somewhat to her surprise, Alice accepted the touch, squeezing back. "Alice, I don't want to talk about this if it's going to hurt you."

"I need to understand," Alice said. "It's how I process stuff like this, I - I need to make sense of it in my head. You saw the look on Eliot's face just as well as I did. He looked like..."

"Like he was going to die of it," Julia said. "When he saw Q like that."

"Yeah. It was scary. Way more intense than I would have expected. I've never really understood them, their friendship... and now I guess it's obvious that I was missing a big piece of the puzzle."

"When Eliot was possessed by the monster," Julia started, feeling her throat constrict slightly. She had to trust Alice's request - if she wanted to understand, Julia would do her best to help her. "Q was... he was  _not_  okay. Obviously I put that down to his dad's death, and Eliot was dead too, so... it made sense that he would be struggling."

"Yeah, I remember that, when I came back. He was kind of cold, and... and  _flat_ , if that makes sense. I thought it was just that he was angry at me, and stressed, but thinking back on it now it's clear he was in trouble. It's just another thing I have to feel guilty about. I should have realized - "

"Alice, I've known Q my whole life, and I was too caught up in everything going on to take his behavior seriously. And we got lucky - we all got out of that darkness alive and intact. There's no use feeling bad about it now."

Alice nodded, her lips turning down into a frown. Julia realized that she was still holding Alice's hand. It didn't feel even a little bit awkward. "I realize, looking back," Julia continued, "that Q didn't care about anything in the world but getting Eliot back. The second he realized that Eliot was still alive, it became his whole focus. He didn't care if he lived or died, he just... he was desperate for it."

"But when, though? I mean,  _how_  did they... if Q's been in love with Eliot for months, why didn't any of us know about it? And how could he - he's the one who asked me to give us another shot. Why would he do that if..."

There was a small stirring of anger and protectiveness pooling in Julia's gut. Honestly, she felt a bit the same way. Earlier, Julia had been visiting with Eliot and Quentin when abruptly, seemingly by prior agreement, they had proceeded to tell her about another life - one they'd lived together in Fillory's past. She'd been happy to know that Q had experienced something so beautiful, but now, sitting here on the couch with Alice's smaller hand gripped in her own, she wasn't sure  _what_  to think. If Q had loved Eliot so entirely, why had he decided to lead Alice on?

"I don't know," Julia said. "Obviously I - I think you and Q are going to have to talk about this once you have a chance to be alone..."

"You know something," Alice said, voice sharp. "You, and Eliot too - you're both hinting at something... Q's supposed to be my  _boyfriend._ Don't I have a right to..."

"Yes." God, this was  _so_  not Julia's secret to tell. She hated Q and Eliot both a little bit for putting her in this position. "Yes, you have a right. You deserve so much better than this, Alice. I definitely don't think that Quentin was trying to hurt you, but that doesn't change the fact that he  _did_ , and it  _sucks_."

Alice blinked at her a few times in surprise, and then her face lost a bit of its anxious tension, softening into something that looked almost fond. "Thank you. I didn't expect... it's like you're on my side."

Julia smiled a little sadly. "I'm really hoping that I don't have to choose."

Alice took a deep breath, and then gently extricated her hand from Julia's. Before Julia could decide how she felt about that, Alice's hand was back, this time gentle against the skin of her wrist. She left her fingers there, like the touch was an anchor, and then said: "Just tell me this, honestly: do I have a shot, here, or should I back off?"

Was she supposed to be honest? Would it hurt less if Julia told her what she really thought? Suddenly, sparing Alice Quinn pain became the most important thing in the world, and Julia felt a small squeeze of panic in her chest as she realized that she didn't know how to accomplish that. A few seconds of silence, and then Alice sighed, leaning back against the couch and breaking eye contact with Julia.

"I guess no answer is sort of an answer, huh?"

"I'm sorry," Julia said. "I wish..."

"Yeah. I wish, too," Alice said forlornly. Then she smiled, and it looked genuine, if a bit pained. "You don't have to pick sides, though. Or at least, I wouldn't expect that. And - if I have to lose him, it's nice to know I won't lose you too."

* * *

**QUENTIN**

"And...  _there_." Kady said in triumph, as her phone let out a loud chirp. "Twenty-four hours."

Q and Eliot were out in the living room with the others - Kady, Julia, Alice, Penny-23 - sitting on the couch. Q had made the walk under his own power, Eliot clutching at his arm and ready to catch him if he stumbled, but honestly, he felt fine. Sure, the walk from his bedroom to the living room couch normally wouldn't have resulted in an elevated heart rate, but he thought that was the nerves as much as it was the exhaustion.

"So... am I supposed to feel something?" Q asked, looking at Kady. She shrugged unhelpfully. Eliot and Q were both dressed now, but Eliot still had a firm grip on his hand and was showing no signs of letting it go.

"How sure are we on the twenty-four hours?" Eliot asked. His voice sounded calm enough, but Q's hand ached from how hard Eliot was holding it. "Maybe we should allow for a window."

"It's definitely twenty-four hours," Kady said, consulting a piece of paper with messy handwriting littering the margins. "Once Q started getting better, I figured I'd double and triple check that there wasn't any nasty surprises waiting for us at the end of this thing."

"What did you find out?" Alice asked. She was sitting on the chair furthest from Q and Eliot, and Q looked over at her a little nervously. They hadn't spoken at all since Eliot had shown up the previous day, although Eliot had told him that they'd had a brief conversation, and he knew from Julia that Alice hadn't left the apartment that whole time, waiting anxiously to make sure he was recovering. It made his heart feel bruised and tender with affection for her, and sadness filled him for what he knew he'd have to do very shortly. He pressed the length of his leg against Eliot's, seeking reassurance.

"I found a couple of people who got hit with the curse and lived through it," Kady was saying. "Same exact symptoms and timeline of getting sick. After twenty-four hours, you can let go. You'll feel..." Kady hesitated, clenching her jaw as she looked down at Q, "It'll be painful, like how it felt when the curse first hit you. But it'll only last for a couple of minutes and then the last of the magic will be expelled. You'll still feel tired and a little under the weather for a few days, but... that's it."

Q shivered. It was hard to believe that it had been just over two days since he'd been hit with this curse - despite the fact that he'd been sleeping for the majority of that time, he felt exhausted down to his bones. So much had happened, so much had  _changed_ , and he hadn't even left the apartment. Still, no amount of time was likely to make him forget how it had felt with the curse hit him. It maybe wasn't the worst pain he'd ever experienced, but it probably came close. He looked at Eliot, who had gone white and was trying very hard to look like he wasn't on the verge of a total panic attack. In a perverse sort of way, it was comforting, to have someone else's fear to focus on.

"It'll be okay," Q said. He didn't want to freak Eliot out, but felt like he should probably give some sort of warning. "It - um. I'm going to be in kind of a scary amount of pain for a couple of minutes, but it'll look worse than it feels." Eliot's chin quivered for a moment, and Q ached with love for him. "We should - let's get it over with." He lifted his free hand and put it on the side of Eliot's face, smiling when he leaned into it instinctively. Then, he removed his hand, placing it in his lap, and slowly started tugging his other hand out of Eliot's.

Eliot, and G _od_  Q loved him, resisted it for a second, clamping down on Q's fingers. "Are you sure - "

Q tugged again. "Yes, I'm sure. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." Their fingers came free. For a second, he felt normal, and then - 

"Mother of  _fuck_ , ow, ow, ow."

He groaned, closing in on himself. It felt like flames were burning their way through his insides, a rush of malignant, evil magical energy coursing through him, scorching the heart of him. He pitched forward, instinctively seeking the same healing touch that had kept him grounded over the last twenty-four hours.

"Q!" Eliot was grabbing at him, hands rough and clumsy with panic.

"It's okay," Julia was saying. "' _Mother of fuck'_  is what he said at the beginning of this thing." But her voice sounded a bit worried too, and Q could feel her hand pressing hard on his shoulder.

He felt himself fall off the couch, twitching, and knew that Eliot had slid onto the ground with him. He heard a high whimpering sound and became aware that he was the one making it when he felt the vibrations of it against Eliot's chest, where he was being held like a precious, fragile thing.

"Q, shh, shh, I've got you," Eliot was saying. "Please, just...  _please_."

Q wondered what exactly Eliot was asking for, and how he was supposed to give it to him. The pain seemed endless, surging higher and higher, and then cresting through the center of his chest with white-hot intensity. He heard himself give an animal yelp, a horrid, shuddering sound. For a moment he felt certain he was going to die, and then he heard Eliot's voice, small and trembling in his ear. "I'm here, it's okay, it's okay -  _please_  - " El sounded miserable, frantic, like he was the one with fire running through his veins. It was a little hard to think properly through the pain, but Q knew that he was the cause of Eliot's agony, and that was enough to clear his mind, at least slightly: he really had to stop whimpering, because it was hurting Eliot. He managed a slow breath, and then another, feeling the edges of the world start to firm up again around him.

He felt as raw as a live wire, twitchy and vibrant with exposed nerve endings going off in bursts along his skin. He could feel Eliot's hands trembling against him, heard worried little puffs of air stirring the hair on the back of his neck. "It's okay, don't freak out, I'm fine, it's  _fine_ , El..."

Eliot let out a groan when he heard Q's voice, and Q felt his cheek on top of his head, pressing firm. "You're okay." It wasn't a question, more of a command.

"I think... it's... yeah, it's stopping," Q said, taking a shuddering breath. Another. His skin felt stretched tight over his bones, but the pain was subsiding. "It's gone. It's over." He sat up, regaining control of his limbs, and pulled himself away from Eliot so he could turn to face him. His face was white as a sheet. "El,  _really_ , I'm  _okay_." He pressed one hand against Eliot's chest and the other against his face, and Eliot's eyes snapped shut. He turned his face into Q's hand and kissed his palm, and it was about then that Q remembered they weren't alone in the room.

He cleared his throat, and then lifted himself up on his knees, pulling his hands away from Eliot and trying to stand. Julia leaped forward to help. Eliot didn't look happy about it, but he let Quentin stand up and move away from him, his eyes tracking everything with a fierce intensity. Q took a few shaky steps on his own and then sank down onto the edge of the coffee table. "That fucking sucked."

"Jesus, Q." Alice sounded equal parts horrified and relieved. Q had definitely not forgotten she was in the room, but her voice did something to him, something startling and intense, piercing through the remaining fog of pain and centering him back into his body. "I'm so - thank  _God_ ," she said, and, ignoring Eliot slumped on the floor just a foot away, she came straight up to Quentin and threw her arms around him. He returned the embrace by instinct, holding tight.

"That was terrifying," Kady said. "Worse than I thought."

"You okay?" Penny-23 asked. Q looked over the back of Alice's shoulder at him.

"Uh. Yeah." The room was spinning a little bit, but he could feel it - the malignant magic that had been inside of him for the last two days was gone.

He made eye contact with Eliot, who was looking at him like he was the only thing in the universe. Alice's warm weight pressed against him felt suddenly claustrophobic.

God, he felt like such a monster. He loved Alice - he  _really_  did. He truly hadn't been thinking of her as a consolation prize, the person he had to settle for since Eliot didn't want him. Loving Alice was one of the best things about him, but he also knew his own mind. Right there, in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to fall back to the floor and into Eliot's arms. He'd spent literally every second with Eliot for a full day, but it wasn't enough. He hadn't spoken once to Alice in all that time, as he burned his way through a terrifying, magically induced illness, and already he wanted her to go, wanted them all to go, so he could be alone with Eliot, hold him until both of them weren't scared anymore, until he felt himself safe in the place he belonged. If that wasn't definitive proof of Q's heart...

He pulled back slowly out of Alice's arms and carefully met her gaze. "Hey," he said. "Alice."

"I guess we probably need to talk, huh?" she said, her voice wobbly, eyes bright with tears.

He nodded, then turned to look up at Julia, who was standing close by. "Jules - "

"Use my room," she said at once, reading his mind like she so often did. Q didn't really want to break up with Alice Quinn in the same room where he and Eliot had just spent hours making absurdly heartfelt and grandiose confessions of undying love. It felt cheap, somehow.

"Thanks," he said. "Alice, could you just give me a second to..." he kept his eyes firmly on her, careful not to let them flicker over to Eliot's face, but he saw in the tightening of the lines around Alice's mouth that she still knew. She nodded once, stiffly, then got up. Q saw Julia grab Alice's arm and squeeze for a moment, and then Alice made her way to the hallway, leaving the others clustered around Q.

Once she was gone, Q stood on wobbly legs and turned to Julia, letting his friend pull him into a tight hug. "Oh, Q, I'm so relieved, you have no idea."

He released her, and to his shock was pulled into a very brief, somewhat harsh hug by Kady. "Leave the hard-ass hedge interrogations to me next time, got it?" she said, pulling away almost before Q could return the hug.

"Uh. Yeah, will do."

Penny-23, fortunately, wasn't the hugging type. He clapped a hand on Q's shoulder, though, and gave him a genuine smile.

Q turned to Eliot, who was still on his knees on the floor in the space between the couch and the coffee table. He'd gone still, cold and white as marble. Q knelt in front of him and touched his face, bringing him to life. Eliot sucked in a harsh breath and pulled Q tight against him, pressing his lips to the side of Q's neck. Quentin didn't bother to stop him, just held him tight as Eliot shuddered for a few moments, seeking equilibrium in Q's embrace.

"That was fucking torture," he said into Q's neck. "Don't do that. Don't make me watch something like that. Jesus, you're going to make me go grey."

"You look good with grey hair," Quentin murmured back. "Silver fox, remember?"

Eliot gave a little huff of incredulity. "Let's save that for a later decade, darling."

The endearment was somehow both sarcastic and heartfelt at the same time, and Q's heart did an embarrassing little tap-dance inside of his chest. How did Eliot  _do_  that to him? Slowly, and with great reluctance, Q pulled back out of Eliot's arms. For a moment, Eliot resisted that too, his forearms braced tight against Q's back, but with a small sigh of effort, he loosened his grip. Q sat back so they could make eye contact. He knew without looking that Julia had ushered the others away to give them some privacy.

"Are you going to be okay?" Q asked. Eliot still looked paler than usual.

"Yes. As long as you're alive and happy, I've got everything I need."

Q rolled his eyes, even though he felt like smiling and launching himself back at Eliot. "You're a sap."

Eliot just nodded. "The logical consequence of telling the unvarnished truth. When it comes to you, apparently I'm a hopeless romantic."

Quentin couldn't find the words to respond to that, feeling the small tug in his chest that told him he needed to get up and walk down the hall to talk to the woman who was still, technically speaking, his girlfriend. Luckily for Q, Eliot knew him better than anyone.

"Go. Talk to her. And then come back to me."

Without pausing to feel bad about it, Q reached forward and kissed the corner of Eliot's mouth, keeping the contact as brief as he could manage. He stood, feeling his legs still a bit wobbly, and walked down the hall. Eliot was still sitting on the floor when he turned the corner and lost sight of him.

* * *

Alice was sitting on the edge of Julia's bed, looking around the room in a vaguely curious sort of way, when Quentin walked in. He felt unsteady on his legs, a combination of his ordeal, and nerves from the impending conversation.

"So," Q said, just to say something.

"So."

It was occurring to Q that as much as he'd been dreading this conversation, he hadn't really  _prepared_  for it very well. Alice's expression was saying so many things all at once - relief that he was okay, sadness and anger over what she clearly knew was about to happen, and a glint of defiance - she wasn't going to do it for him. He'd have to say it.

Of course, that was what Q admired so much about her, that determination, that sense of her own worth. Alice knew what she deserved, and Quentin hated that he didn't know how to give that to her and still remain true to how he felt.

"I should start by saying I'm sorry," he said. He was still standing awkwardly by the closed door, and he leaned against it. "When... when Eliot showed up, I was pretty out of it, so I don't really remember if I said anything or..."

"You didn't, not really. You just told him to stay with you." Alice's voice was calm, matter-of-fact. She'd had just as much time as Quentin to think about all of this.

"Right. Like I said, I was pretty out of it. None of that was strictly... voluntary. Not that that's an excuse, I just... um. I guess it's important for me that you know I never lied to you, or, or, kept anything from you on purpose."

Alice raised an unimpressed eyebrow at that. "You're clearly just like... unbelievably in love with Eliot, Q. And unless that somehow came on spontaneously, you obviously  _did_  keep something from me."

"I really - I do love you, Alice," Q began, but Alice put up a hand to stop him.

"Quentin. Is this a breakup?" she asked. It wasn't really a question. She was too smart to think otherwise. But Q knew she was asking him to do better, to be clear and communicative and give her the closure she required.

Q took a shaky breath, cleared his throat, and met her eyes. "Yes."

"Okay. Come sit next to me, you look like you're about to fall over."

Q did so, sinking onto the bed, close enough to feel the heat of Alice's leg against his, but not quite touching. He'd find the words, for her. She deserved that. 

"Alice, I'm going to tell you about a crazy thing that happened to me. I didn't keep it from you because I didn't trust you, or didn't want you to know, exactly. It's something that happened to me and Eliot, and we sort of had this unofficial agreement not to talk about it. With  _anyone_. Eliot only told Margo yesterday."

Alice's eyes widened. She knew Eliot and Margo well enough to understand how significant that was. "Okay. Tell me."

Q did - he started at the beginning, going back to the key quest, explaining the mosaic. Alice knew about the puzzle of course, from the Fillory books, and he saw the full impact dawn on her as he kept talking. He told her about falling in love with Eliot, meeting Arielle, the terror and joy of learning they were going to be parents. And then Teddy, Ari's death, and everything that came after that, the family they had built. He had just started to tell her how it ended - the key, and Jane, writing the letter to Margo, when she put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"The beauty of all life," she said, sounding awed.

"Yes," Q said. He still felt a sense of nearly spiritual reverence when he thought about it. The beauty of all life was  _them_. Quentin Coldwater and Eliot Waugh together. There couldn't be a love more real than that.

"Wow. Q. That's..."

"I know," Q said. "That timeline, it never happened, you know? But for me and El, it. It  _did_. We can't remember all of it, not the way we remember the past of our own true timeline, but it's a part of us. It's written into our bones. It's not. Um. Something you can forget about, growing old loving someone."

Alice took her hand off of Q's arm, seeming to realize it was still there. She took a couple of deep breaths, and swallowed loudly. "Why did you even bother with us, then?"

 _"Alice_ ," Q said. It wasn't fair of him to be hurt by that, but he felt the sting of it anyway. "I - I didn't think of it like that, okay? It's not a competition. I thought. God, this is going to sound weird, but I really thought I'd figured it out, you know? Everything was so crazy and bad, with the monsters and Everett and the magic being rationed. I was spinning out, and you were..."

"I was there," she said, cold.

"Yes, but that makes it sound... it wasn't like that. You were  _there_  and I'd loved you for so long, Alice. I'd worked so hard for you, and finally you were there - more importantly, you  _wanted_  to be there. Suddenly, you became the only thing in my whole life that wasn't a fucking disaster."

"So you were clinging to that. I can get that. It's not flattering, exactly, but I can understand it. But what I don't understand is why you stayed with me, when you got Eliot back."

Q let out a bit of a harsh laugh. "I didn't think he loved me like that. Hell, Alice, I wasn't even sure  _I_  still loved him like that. It's not like I was desperately pining and Eliot was indifferent, and now he's changed his mind or something. It's a lot less clear cut than that. I'm really not sure if I know how to explain it."

"Try, please."

"The life that I lived with Eliot - he was. I loved him so much, there. Then. He was truly the love of my life. I loved Arielle too, of course, but not the way I loved Eliot. He was the center of my world, he was my partner in every possible way."

Q paused, swallowing around the next thing he knew he had to say. It was the best way to make sense of it to himself, and to Alice as well. "I thought, when we got Eliot back from the monster, that I had figured out something. I thought - hey, this is fine. I'll always love Eliot, of course, but being his friend is all I need. I've already  _had_  my life with him."

Alice was looking at him with a guarded expression, but when she didn't say anything, he went on. "I thought that Eliot was the love of one of my lifetimes, one I'd already had. And that you were the love of  _this_  life. I thought I'd figured out how to have a life with you both."

He saw it happen, watched as Alice's composure broke. Her face twisted and she let out a little hiccuping sob, burying her face in her hands. "But you were wrong," she said, overwrought. "He - Eliot gets to have you  _twice_."

Q let her cry for a moment, unsure if his touch would be welcome, but Alice, who had learned not to shy away from what she needed, leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder while she cried. Grateful for the touch, Q put his arms around her, trying to control the burning in his own eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "Hurting you is the last thing I'd ever want to do, but I just keep doing it."

Alice cried for a few more minutes, and then, with a shuddering sort of laugh, she lifted her head from Quentin's shoulder and looked at him, shaking her head. "You know what's really fucked up, Q?"

"What?"

"I'm so sad, and so angry with you for breaking my heart, but... that fucking story... it's so goddamn romantic, I can't even really hate you for it."

That startled a laugh out of him. He bit down on it quickly, though, ducking to meet her eyes. "Our story's romantic too, Vix," he said. "And it doesn't matter how sure I am about this, I'm still sad that it has to be over."

Alice's face underwent a minor transformation, taking on an expression of strong determination. She looked beautiful when she was sure of herself, even with the tear-tracks and the splotchy skin. "Q, I'm going to be mad at you for a while. Maybe a long while."

"I get that - "

"But you told me that you wanted me in your life, and I told you I wanted that too. Maybe we just need to adjust the parameters."

Quentin smiled, surprised by how relieved he felt. "Yes. God, yes, Alice, I'd really like that."

She smiled back at him, but it was reserved. "Like I said. I'm pretty angry. Currently. But eventually..."

"Yes, eventually. You... you tell me what you want me to do, and I'll do it," he said. "You're one of the most amazing people I've ever known, Alice. I can't imagine who I'd be if I'd never known you."

She looked at him like she was trying to unlock a puzzle, and Q fought back the urge to say something, babble useless placating words to fill the silence. Finally, she nodded, like she'd decided something, and leaned forward to press her lips against his in a short, chaste farewell.

"I'm going to go out for a bit, with Julia and Kady. Girl's night, you know?" She stood, and put a hand on the side of his face, sliding a finger down it like she wanted to memorize how it felt. Quentin swallowed, looking up at her as she spoke. "I can see that you're happy. And someday, I'll be happy for you. Goodbye, Q."

* * *

**ELIOT**

From inside Q's room, Eliot heard the sounds of Alice, Julia, and Kady collecting their coats and purses and leaving the apartment. He thought about running into the living room to find Q, but decided against it; he would understand if Q needed some time alone to decompress. He himself was buzzing with a sort of restless energy that he couldn't burn off. He sincerely hoped he'd never have to watch Q go through something so horrible again. Maybe they were just condensing all of their drama into a neat, compact 48-hour period so they could be indescribably happy for the rest of their lives.

Probably not, but whatever. A guy can dream.

Eliot was facing the window when he heard the door open behind him.

"So, I'm officially single," Q said, walking into the room and swinging the door shut.

Eliot smiled at him, starting to cross the room. The words ' _looking for a rebound_?' were on the tip of his tongue, but he saw the shadow across Q's face and pulled him into a gentle hug instead. "Are you okay?"

Q nodded into his chest. "She wasn't exactly surprised. But she was kind of pissed off."

"Understandable," Eliot said, breathing in the clean, healthy scent of Quentin's newly washed hair.

"I feel bad for not feeling worse," Q said, his voice slightly muffled. "Does that make sense?"

"Oh, definitely," Eliot said, smiling. "I should feel like shit for breaking you and Alice up -  _again_  - but instead I'm just stupidly happy. It's incredibly rude."

"Oh, good." Q looked up at him, his expression relieved. "Me too." And then, like it was something they did every day, the most natural thing in the world, Q leaned up and kissed him.

His mouth was minty, clean and soft, and Eliot melted into him. It was like coming home, coming alive, every other cliche he'd ever heard, and he didn't have room inside of him to be self-conscious about it. He let Q position him the way he wanted, a gentle slide of smooth lips against one another. Eliot had always had a bit of an obsession with Q's lips, the bow of them, the soft pink, and he'd developed a fixation with kissing him during their long life together in Fillory. He'd lost count of the number of nights, early in their relationship, when they'd gotten so caught up making out with one another that the effort of more than that became impossible - he remembered feeling like a teenager, grinding his way to release with his pants still on, an eager body in his lap, swallowing Q's gasps and murmurs of pleasure.

Eliot tried - no  _really_ , he tried - to keep this first kiss gentle. Quentin had literally just broken up with the woman he thought he was going to spend his life with, and he was still recovering his strength. It would really be for the best if they kept things slow, on the physical front. Honestly. That was the plan.

They did not stick to the plan.

Before Eliot could find a way to slow himself down, he and Q were trying to swallow each other alive. Eliot could hear his own breathing, harsh and too loud in his ears. Q was making little sounds into his mouth, gripping at Eliot's shirt-front and pressing himself as tight as he could against him - without meaning to, Eliot found he'd pushed Q backwards across the room, gotten his back up against the wall for leverage.

" _Fuck_ ," Q gasped, as Eliot slotted a leg in between Q's thighs. Q ground down, and Eliot made a truly embarrassing, desperate noise, dropping his lips to Q's collarbone. He sucked into the soft skin there, and then bit down, a phantom memory of their past lives telling him how much Q liked it a little rough. " _God_ , yes, do that again," Q said, throwing his head back and letting it thunk against the wall. Eliot laughed, delighted and so turned on he was actually light-headed.

He had a hand up under Q's shirt before he'd realized it, and Q's hands had grabbed at the back of his ass, pulling their hips tight against each other. Eliot could feel Q, the hard, hot, familiar length of him, and he felt his knees give way as he leaned all of his weight against Q, mouthing at the skin of his neck. "Bed," he gasped.

"Yes, yeah. Clothes - " Q pushed his hands clumsily at Eliot's vest and shoved forward, pushing Eliot back towards the bed where just two days ago, Eliot had arrived to find him barely clinging to life.

Q was certainly alive now - alive, and hard and hot and demanding, and Eliot loved him so much he felt like he was going to burst from it. Time kept moving in weird fits and starts, little moments seared into his brain, Q's hands on him, tugging, pressing, the harsh sound of their breathing, the spit-slick slide of their lips against one another. At some point, when they'd managed to remove most of their clothes, Eliot became aware that Q was saying something, pressing his lips and teeth into Eliot's neck, down his chest - a low, desperate chant -  _love you, love you, - god, I love you, El,_  and Eliot tried very hard to gather his wits enough to say it back. He was babbling  _something_ , he realized, and making sounds that he didn't recognize in himself, desperate, aching noises. He'd lost all control of the situation, and for once he seriously didn't mind it.

He was drunk on the noises Q was making, too, wanted to swallow all of them up but also wanted very badly to get his mouth on Q's dick - he had barely managed to slide down the length of Q's body, however, when Quentin got a hand into his hair and tugged, hard, pulling him back up. "If you put your mouth on me right now, I'll come," he confessed.

"Not seeing the problem," Eliot said, trying to slide back down.

"Not yet," Q said, gasping as Eliot's tongue found one of his nipples. "I want - fuck. El. I - " he made a frustrated sound and grabbed Eliot by the arms, shoving until Eliot allowed the momentum to tip them, so that he was lying on his back looking up at Q, who had a very determined look on his face. "I want you inside me. Now."

"Jesus Christ, Q," Eliot said, eyes widening. His hips jutted upwards of their own volition, and Q pressed down on his chest, then lined their hips together and reached a hand down, grabbing them both together. Eliot jerked, the sensation feeling way too fucking good. Q wasn't the only one who was in danger of ending things prematurely - it may have had something to do with the fact that Eliot had been having a bit of a dry spell, or the fact that he'd been touching Q pretty much non-stop for hours on end and hadn't been allowed to do any of this, or more probably the fact that he was really, stupidly in love with the man currently straddling him, and couldn't quite believe he was getting to have him like this again.

There was a spell for this, to make Q ready for him, but Q usually didn't like it - he liked it when Eliot worked him open slowly, made him squirm, made him beg for it. Today, apparently, he was too impatient for that. Eliot watched, as Q, his pupil's blown wide with desire, performed the tuts, and then before Eliot could think about taking back control of the situation, Q was sinking down onto him. His vision actually whited out for a moment.

"Fuck,  _fuck_  this is not going to take long," he said, a little apologetic, as Q started moving in tight, quick little jerks.

"Good, me neither," Q said, and then groaned as Eliot lifted his hips to meet Q on a downward motion.

Despite the fact that he was the one inside of Q, Eliot felt split open, scooped out and hollow with the feel of it. Q didn't usually want it like this - he liked being held down, covered by Eliot's taller body, but Eliot couldn't deny the appeal of this position. Seeing Q above him, riding him, was something out of one of Eliot's filthiest fantasies, the ones he'd entertained when Q had just been the fascinating little first-year, a new play-thing to torment. He let Q have his way with him for a while, squeezing his eyes shut and trying desperately not to come, drinking in the noises Q was making, little staccato moans with every jerk of his hips.

Eliot reached up, putting a hand on Q's chest, wanting to touch. Their position wasn't allowing him to grab at Q, hold him the way they both needed. Practicing a move they'd perfected over decades in Fillory, he grabbed Q's arms and flipped them, sinking back in to Q's willing body before he'd had time to realize what was happening.

" _Eliot_."

This was  _Quentin_ , under him, moaning his name with practically pornographic fervor. Quentin Coldwater - the most selfless, generous, beautiful man Eliot had ever knew, a man who understood the best and worst of Eliot Waugh and still wanted him, still  _loved_  him. Eliot had never thought he'd get to have this again, and as he let the passion of their coupling overtake him, he felt himself more profoundly hopeful,  _joyful_ , than he'd ever been in this lifetime. Q came first, spilling over Eliot's hand, which had been wrapped tight around him, crushed between their stomachs. He clenched down, groaning Eliot's name again, high and shocked, and then Eliot was gone too, burying his face in Q's neck, trembling through his release, stuttering senseless words of devotion into Quentin's hair, as together they shuddered their way to a sense of calm they'd both been seeking for far too long.

* * *

**QUENTIN**

"I think," Eliot said, after a long moment of sated silence and a convenient magical clean-up, "That's gotta be top five. Easy."

Quentin's heart was still pounding incredibly quickly, and he was having trouble catching his breath. "Of all time, or just with me?" he finally asked, squirming slightly to escape the heavy press of Eliot's body on top of his own.

"Same thing," Eliot murmured unthinkingly into Q's collarbone, where his head was resting. Q tried very hard not to preen at that, but Eliot caught the pleased little huff of laughter and lifted his head, waggling his eyebrows. "You're the best I've ever had, baby."

"Oh, shut up," Q said, feeling his cheeks heat from the teasing praise. "Same."

Eliot rolled his eyes. "Yeah, duh. Who the hell else is gonna take care of you the way I can?"

"Oh,  _you_  took care of  _me_ , did you?" Q said, laughing. He felt satisfied in a way that went beyond physical.

Eliot gave a little hum of contentment when Q scratched his fingers into Eliot's hair, and Q felt his heart turn over in his chest. "Hey, um."

"Hey," Eliot said back, his eyes closed, breathing starting to even out.

"Hey, don't fall asleep," Q said.

"But you wore me out, Q."

How was it possible that something as simple as that could make him blush, even after a lifetime with this man? Q turned his head and placed a clumsy kiss to the side of Eliot's neck. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Mm?"

"Well, I was thinking about. What we both need. Like, not just from each other, but from our lives, and - I think. I think I'm still figuring some stuff out, but I think I know where we should be."

Eliot's eyes flickered open, and he rose up on one arm so he could look down at Q, his eyebrows raised. Q cursed his inability to form a complete sentence without stumbling over himself, especially when it was something important like this. But he also trusted Eliot not to laugh at him or brush him off. More important, he trusted  _himself_  to stick to his guns and talk it out, even if Eliot did decide to be evasive. The last couple of days had taught him that much about himself.

"I think I should move to Fillory with you."

Eliot jerked like Q had just electrocuted him, and his eyes went wide. "You - what?"

"Well, I know you're probably eager to get back to Whitespire, so - "

"I'm not leaving you," Eliot said. He sounded almost angry, and Q felt his own eyebrows raise in a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"I said I should come  _with_  you, El."

"But - you're - you live here." Eliot blinked and seemed to realize how stupid that sounded. He shook his head and pushed himself up, off of Q, who immediately missed the weight and warmth of him. "I mean, your life is here."

"Is it?" Q asked. "Because your life's in Fillory, El, and I don't really feel like living apart, unless that's what - "

"Fuck no," Eliot said, sounding contemptuous of the very idea. "With all the trouble you get yourself into around here, do you seriously think I'm letting you out of my sight?"

"Hey!"

"Plus I've missed you," Eliot admitted. "Even if it weren't for all of this," he gestured between them, "even if we weren't going to be together, I'd still... I just missed my friend, Q."

"Yeah, me too," Q said. "which is why I think it's probably best if I move to Fillory."

"I'd stay here," Eliot said. "Just - to be clear about that. From the moment you said you loved me and you were breaking up with Alice, I sort of assumed that's what I was doing."

"Really? But - Margo, Fen..."

"They don't need me. I don't... I mean. I'm not saying..." Eliot sighed, clearly frustrated with his inability to form a proper sentence. Q found the stuttering endearing. Finally, Eliot squared his shoulders and spoke firmly: "I'm trying to say that you're my priority. I'll go wherever you go."

"Great. I'm going to Fillory, then."

" _Q_ ," Eliot said, exasperated. "I'm saying you don't  _have_  to - "

"Do you love Fillory? I mean, if it weren't for me, would you want to live there?"

Eliot frowned at him, and didn't answer.

"Eliot, listen. When I first found out that Fillory was real, I was so excited. But everything since then has been one disappointment after the other. I never got what I thought I needed from it, but... now? With Margo and Fen in charge, with you and Josh helping to make it a good, fair place to live... I want to be a part of that. If you'll let me."

Eliot's face transformed, a glow of happiness and relief infusing it until it was so bright it was almost hard to look at. "Well, ultimately it's Margo's decision," he demurred. "But I think I might be able to convince her."

"We'll have to come back here to visit all the time," Q said. He'd been giving this a good deal of thought. "There's Jules, of course. And... I'm not sure how long it's going to take for things to stop being... painful, but I want Alice in my life, El. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," Eliot said immediately. He reached out and took one of Q's hands. "I want that for you, for both of you - really."

"Good. So it's settled - you'll beg High King Margo to let me in to her awesome castle, and we'll stay in Fillory, with frequent field trips."

"I'm incredibly lucky," Eliot said, sounding almost dazed with it. "I get to keep you, and I get to have Margo, and Fen, and  _Fillory_ , and..." he sighed, and lay back down fully onto the bed, this time on his back. Q squirmed around until he was lying with his chin propped up on Eliot's chest so he could see the elated, almost dopey expression on Eliot's face. "I actually get to have it all: my soon-to-be ex-wife and my two soulmates." Q felt his heart constrict and start pounding harder.  _Soulmates._ Eliot's eyes flicked over to study his face. "I do hope you're okay with sharing. Because honestly I'm not sure if Margo's going to let me go, even if I wanted to."

Quentin laughed out loud and pressed his face into Eliot's bare chest. "Soulmate?" he said, a little embarrassed at how needy the word sounded coming out of his mouth.

Eliot's arms came up around him, and squeezed. "Yes. Yeah, had I not made that clear?"

"It's going to be... El, I'm going to have a hard time with it sometimes. Believing that I'm good enough for you, that you could really want me."

"Then I'll just keep telling you," Eliot said immediately. "Remember what I said - we're going to be nauseating to everyone who has to spend time with us. I'm going to declare my love for you to the fucking world, Q. You're going to be begging me to keep a lid on it before long."

"Doubtful," Quentin said, pleased. Then he went quiet for a moment, thinking. "I'm not always so good at... I just meant... I hope you know how I feel, too."

Eliot went still for a moment, and then relaxed, one of his hands brushing slow, lazy patterns up and down Q's arms. "I think I might have a hard time believing it sometimes too." Q could tell that it was a really hard thing for him to say, even now, after all of the talking they'd been doing over the past couple of days. "It's hard for me to trust it, that you could..."

"Yeah," Q said. "I know. I guess we're both just our own brand of insecure."

"It's not that I don't believe you, exactly," Eliot said. This was a familiar conversation, retreaded again and again during their decades in Fillory's past. They'd had the same conversation just hours before. Sometimes Q wondered if they'd ever stop having it.

"It's like you said, El. We'll just keep telling each other. As much as it takes until we both believe it's real." And that was worth it - annoying, painful, scary sometimes, but worth it.

Eliot gripped him tighter. "How is it possible that I'm not sick of touching you right now?"

"I don't know, but I'd say it's a good sign."

For the rest of the day and well into the night, they did quite a lot of touching, no longer dictated by magical necessity. Making up for lost time.

* * *

**JULIA**

"Wow, Q, I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you're happy for me, Jules," Q said. His eyes were a little watery, Julia noticed, but she wasn't sure if that was from the current conversation, or the fact that he'd just said a clearly weepy goodbye to Eliot, who had headed back to Whitespire to join Margo.

"I'm happy for you," Julia said immediately. " _Fillory_. Wow. Can you imagine telling twelve-year-old us about this?"

Quentin laughed, bright and carefree, and it stirred something in Julia's chest. It was so nice to see him like this, really, but there was a small phantom ache to it as well, an ache that felt like Alice.

"No, I can't. But this is... it feels really good, Julia. It feels like the thing I'm supposed to be doing."

"I'm so glad."

"And we've already got it all worked out, we're going to visit so often you won't even notice I'm gone."

Julia laughed at that. "Doubtful. But that's okay, it'll give me an excuse to visit Fillory more often, too."

"Yes! Absolutely. You and I will go on a tour of the place, we'll see all the stuff we used to talk about."

"It's good to see you excited about stuff again, Quentin. I didn't realize how much I was missing that."

Julia meant it, she really did, so she was a little surprised to see the enthusiasm slide off of Q's face. "I wasn't... you know, I could have been happy with her."

There it was again, that twinge in Julia's chest, a strange cocktail of anger at Q, and guilt for something she wasn't putting a name to, not yet.

"I know that. It's... gonna be weird, for a while, Q. There's no way for it not to be. But you're a good person, and Alice is a good person too, and you're both also incredibly stubborn. I think there's a way for everyone to be happy at the end of this."

Quentin pulled her into a hug and squeezed tight. "It's probably weird for me to ask this, but... did she seem okay? When you and Kady took her out for drinks the other night."

"Oh," Julia said, feeling her face heat up as Q pulled back from the hug. "Um. Actually, Kady bailed after the first hour or so. Something came up. So it was just me and Alice."

"Okay?" Q said, raising an eyebrow. "And..."

"And... she's good?" Julia said. She hadn't meant for it to come out like a question.

The somewhat surprising truth was, Alice had ranted at Julia and Kady about the breakup for a while, and then for the rest of the night, Julia and Alice hadn't talked about Q at all. They'd talked about magic, about their childhoods, about the plans they had for the future. They'd gotten drunk but not too drunk, and crashed together in Kady's unused bedroom back at the apartment, because it was farther away from the one that had been occupied by Q and Eliot that night. Alice hadn't thought about Q for most of the evening, and Julia hadn't thought about Penny, which was just one of many reasons why she felt so strange about the whole thing.

Luckily for her, Q was in many ways still the same oblivious sweetheart she'd known her whole life, and he didn't notice that she'd gotten weird. It didn't matter, anyway. Nothing was going to happen. And if it did, it was only going to happen after a lot of careful thought and consideration. She loved Q, she even loved Eliot, in a way, but she wasn't looking to replicate their melodramas with her own love life.

"I want her to be happy," Q was saying, and Julia blinked, refocusing herself on the conversation. "I think my going to Fillory is a good chance for us to have some healing distance, too. But... I'll feel better if I know she's got you to be her friend, Jules. Promise me you'll look out for her?"

Oh, great. That was practically a blessing from the ex-boyfriend, if you looked at it in the right lighting. She was definitely screwed.

* * *

**QUENTIN**

"So... obviously, the interior design was selected without you in mind," Eliot said. Quentin looked at Eliot's opulent room in Castle Whitespire, somehow completely over the top without being tacky, and tried very hard to school his face into something other than amusement.

"Clearly," Q said. "This is the bedroom of a bachelor. A slutty, slutty, bachelor."

Eliot smacked his arm, but he was smiling too. "We'll redecorate together."

"I don't get my own room?" Q asked innocently.

Eliot's eyes widened slightly at that. "Uh - no, yeah, of course you do, if that's what - "

"I'm  _kidding_ , El. God, you're easy today."

"I'm nervous _,_ you jerk. I've never moved in with anyone before."

"Except me," Q pointed out reasonably.

"Except you," Eliot agreed, and Q watched with fascination as the tension drained out of him, an expression of simple pleasure lighting his eyes. "But then of course we didn't know we were  _moving in together_  when we... moved in together."

"Very true," Q said, mock serious. "I seem to recall it took us a full year to Christen our shared abode, the first time around. I don't see much of a reason to wait this time... do you?"

Eliot gave him one of those wicked, lustful smiles that used to knock Q over with desire. Hell, still  _did_  knock him over with desire, if the way his blood had started running hot and his palms had gone sweaty was any indication.

"Come in, then," Eliot said, and bowed gracefully for Q to enter the room first. "And then come  _here_." Eliot used magic to slam the door shut, and he had Q up against it in the next second. "You've discovered the perfect antidote for my nerves, Quentin, and I really do appreciate you for it."

"Uh... good," Q said. Damn it. He'd been so witty just a second ago. But that was what this man did to him, and in the long-run he wasn't going to complain.

"Hey!" a loud voice came from the hallway, just as Eliot ducked to press a kiss into the spot behind Q's ear that drove him wild. "Put your pants on, you guys, I think a giant sea serpent is declaring war!"

Margo.

"Bambi?" Eliot said, kissing Q's nose in apology and pulling away. Q stood up straight and straightened his rumpled shirt as Eliot opened the door. "A what now?"

"Oh, catch up," Margo said, already striding down the hallway. "Q!" she called back over her shoulder. "I know we haven't officially given you a title yet, but you're family, so Fillory's problems are your problems - get your cute little ass into gear."

"Have you been checking out Q's cute little ass?" Eliot said in outrage, as Q hurried after the two of them down the hall, both looking regal and important in their Fillorian finest. "Because honestly, Bambi, I've already lost my wife to your wicked seductions, and - "

"A sea serpent, El,  _focus_! It like, flew out of the sea and started spouting ancient prophecies. Or at least I think that's what it was doing. Tick needs to come with a translator."

A malevolent sea serpent didn't sound like good news at all, but Quentin found himself smiling uncontrollably as he lengthened his stride and fell into step beside Margo and Eliot. Eliot, full-on bickering with Margo about the correct course of action for this unlikely turn of events, grabbed Q's hand and held it as they rushed off to the throne room, and Q was pretty sure he hadn't even realized he was doing it.

They entered the room together, the three of them joining Fen, Josh, and a group of Fillorian officials and counselors, who were crowded around a couple of worried looking talking bears, who appeared to be explaining the situation with the serpent. Margo marched straight up to the group and started asking questions and barking orders, and Q felt himself pulled in to the circle as well, and his heart beat faster, a potent combination of giddy nerves and pride filling him up inside as Eliot kept their hands firmly interlocked, for the whole world to see. Interruptions of their reawakened sex life notwithstanding, there was literally nowhere else in the world Quentin Coldwater would rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have NO IDEA what happened with Julia and Alice in this chapter. What even is their shipper name? Anyway. That completely surprised me and was not planned. Maybe I'll have to explore the potential of that relationship more... hmm....
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Any favorite quotes/moments? Come chat with me in the comments.


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